


Fallen

by samsimpala



Series: The Messenger of God Saga [8]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Mark of Cain (Supernatural), Original Character Death(s), Original Character(s), Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net, Season/Series 09
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:34:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 44
Words: 102,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26919667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/samsimpala/pseuds/samsimpala
Summary: Sam's dying, Castiel is human, and the angels have fallen from Heaven. How will Dean and Angela save Sam? How will their relationship change once he finds out he's possessed by an angel? And what's the deal with the Mark of Cain? Find out in Fallen! Revision of Season 9. Sam x OC.
Relationships: Sam Winchester/Original Female Character(s)
Series: The Messenger of God Saga [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1888270
Kudos: 5





	1. I Think I'm Gonna Like it Here Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Hey, guys! Welcome to Fallen, the eighth installment of the Messenger of God Saga! It involves my OC, a hunter named Angela Morgan. This will be a revision of season 9, and the story will follow the perspective of Sam, Dean, and Angela, therefore some parts will be missing.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or the characters in any shape or form. I just own Angela and Gracie :) Enjoy!

_Dean sped down the dark road, gripping the steering wheel tightly._

_"This makes no sense." Sam sighed. "I mean, how many angels fell—hundreds, thousands? And nobody sees anything? This is… look at this. They're calling it a meteor shower. Seriously?"_

_Sam frowned when Dean and Angela didn't respond. They were just sitting there silently as Dean drove._

_"What's going on, guys? You okay?" Sam asked concern lacing his voice._

_"Us?" Angela raised her brows. "Yeah. We're fine. It's just—_

_"It's just we got a major freakin' crap fest on our hands." Sam nodded. "Yeah, tell me about it. Thousands of superpowered dicks touching down, and we got no idea where to start."_

_"Angels aren't our problem right now, okay?" Dean snapped. "Or demons, or Metatron, or whatever the hell happened to Cas!"_

_Sam's brows furrowed. "Why? Because we hugged it out in that church and—and now we're gonna go to Disneyland? You said it yourself, we're not gonna sleep till this is done."_

_"I know." Dean sighed heavily._

_"So, what's the problem?" Sam asked, confused._

_"You." Angela looked up at her husband. "Look, honey, there's no easy way to say this, okay? But something happened back there in the church. And we don't know what. We don't know why. You're dying, Sammy."_

_Sam scoffed lightly, not believing her. "Shut up."_

~/~\~

_Randolph, New York_

Sam lied on a hospital bed with his eyes closed. There was a tube in his nose and his arm was strapped to a beeping monitor. Dean and Angela sat at his bedside, both of them looking extremely worried. Angela had Grace in her lap. Dean turned his head to look at the little TV that was in the room. The news headline read _'Global Meteor Shower.'_

~/~\~

Dean and Angela were looking at Sam's medical scans as the doctor spoke.

"The MRI shows massive internal burns affecting many of the major organs. Oxygen to the brain has been severely deprived." The doctor explained. "The coma is the result of the body doing everything in its limited power to protect itself from further harm."

Dean turned and stared at his brother sadly. "This wasn't supposed to happen."

The doctor pursed his lips. "If he continues on this trajectory, the machines might keep him alive, but—

"He'll be dead," Angela whispered, tears in her eyes.

"Technically, yes. I'm afraid so." The doctor nodded.

"So, there's—there's no recovery?" Dean asked. "I mean, there's no bounce-back. There's no nothing."

"I'm afraid that's in God's hands now." The doctor replied gently.

Something in Angela snapped when the doctor said that. She clenched her jaw in anger. "You're a _doctor._ You're a medical professional." She scoffed. "You're trying to tell us that my husband's life is in _God's_ hands?! What, is that supposed to be a—a comfort?"

The doctor was slightly stunned at her outburst. "Mrs. Dougherty—

"Get out," Angela demanded.

"I didn't mean—

"Get out!" she yelled more forcefully.

The doctor sighed heavily and nodded, understanding that she was upset. Dean rested a comforting hand on Angela's shoulder as the doctor left the room.

"Kid…" Dean sighed.

"I'm sorry," Angela replied as she adjusted Grace in her arms. "I shouldn't have—

"It's okay." Dean cut her off. "I was gonna grab us some grub. Are you gonna be okay?"

Angela nodded and wiped away her tears with her free hand. "Yeah. Yeah, I'll be fine."

Dean pressed a kiss to her forehead before he walked out of the room and into a corridor. He looked up and noticed a sign pointing to the hospital chapel.

~/~\~

Dean sat in one of the chapel pews, hands clasped together. "Cas, are you there? Sammy's hurt. He's hurt, uh—he's hurt pretty bad. And, um… I know you think that I'm pissed at you, okay? But I don't care that the angels fell. So, whatever you did or didn't do, it doesn't matter, okay? We'll work it out. Please, man, I need you here. Angie needs you here."

Dean sighed heavily and looked around, waiting for some sort of response. He clenched his jaw and shifted in his seat when he got nothing.

"Screw it." He muttered. "Okay, listen up. This one goes out to any angel with their ears on. This is Dean Winchester… And I need your help. The deal is this—Linwood Memorial Hospital… Randolph, New York. The first one who can help me gets my help in return… and you know that ain't nothin'. Hell, it's no secret that we haven't always seen eye-to-eye. But you know that I am good for my word. And, uh, I wouldn't be asking if I wasn't needing, so…"

~/~\~

Angela sat at Sam's bedside, tears in her eyes. Grace was in her lap babbling up a storm.

"Sammy you gotta stay alive." Angela pleaded, her voice shaking with emotion. "Please, baby. We need you to stay alive, I need you to stay alive." 

Angela knew she wasn't going to get a response from Sam, but she desperately hoped that he would miraculously wake up… A few tears fell from her eyes as she stared at her husband.

~/~\~

_"Look, just because you're dying doesn't mean you're dead—not yet, okay?" Dean said. "We've jimmied ourselves out of worse. We're gonna fight this. I got the plan. You just got to hang on. You hear me?"_

_"Absolutely," Sam replied, not really believing his brother._

_"You think we're lying?" Angela raised her brows._

_"Pretty much, yeah." Sam chuckled._

_"You understand that we're not really in this car." Angela pointed out. "We are in your head, and you're in a coma and are dying."_

_"How do you know that?" Sam's brows furrowed._

_"Because we're you and you're you. All of this is you. We're in your head!" Dean exclaimed._

_"You're serious." Sam realized. "The whole reason I stopped doing the trials was not to die."_

_"And the next time we see Naomi or Metatron or whoever is to blame for this, we will get some justice, but for right now, we got to fight this man," Dean explained._

_"Okay." Sam nodded. "Alright, what's the plan?"_

_Dean paused for a moment. "I'm working on it."_

_"What does that mean?" Sam questioned. "I'm kind of dying here, apparently."_

_"It means I'm working on it, alright?" Dean assured._

_"The thing is, if I am dying—and I believe you guys. I do. But if you're you but you're really me and you're the part of me that wants to fight to live…"_

_"Yes," Dean replied. "I mean, I have no idea what you just said, but continue."_

_"But if you don't have any idea how I'm supposed to fight, then am I supposed to be fighting at all?" Sam asked._

_Angela frowned deeply. "Are you serious?"_

_"Hell, yes, he's serious," Bobby said suddenly from the back seat. "And if you ask me, I think the kid's got a good point."_

_"Sam wants to die, and you think he's got a point?!" Angela exclaimed._

_"Okay, I don't want to die." Sam cut in. "I asked if maybe I was supposed to—_

_"Shut it, Sam." Dean interrupted before glancing at Bobby. "You—go. Oh, and, uh, before you throw me and Angie under the bus, you're welcome for the Hell rescue."_

_"Hey, first of all, you two didn't rescue jack. Sam did." Bobby reminded. "Second of all, Sam, you're in a coma. Now, suck as that may, sometimes that's just the way things go."_

_"What are you talking about?" Dean scoffed. "There's always a way. You taught us that!"_

_"Oh, you mean like the way one of you idjits does some 'ass-backward' crazy thing to beat death, like sell your soul?" Bobby raised a brow._

_"Exactly like selling my soul!" Dean snapped._

_"Yeah, like that worked so well the last time." Bobby retorted sarcastically._

_"Oh!" Dean waved his hand dismissively._

_"Enough!" Sam snapped. "All of you! I can't hear myself think!"_

_Angela's brows furrowed. "Well, you're not actually buying this, are you?"_

_"Excuse me. Are you dead?" Bobby asked. "Because I am, and maybe I'm here because I'm the part of Sam that actually knows what the hell he's talking about."_

_"Well, Angie and I are in the front seat because Sam put us here because he wants to fight," Dean argued. "Right?"_

_Suddenly, Bobby appeared in the front seat, making it a tight squeeze. "Well… that just got really uncomfortable. See ya."_

_Bobby put a hand on Sam's shoulder and the two disappeared._

_"Sam, don't you dare—_

~/~\~

_Suddenly, Sam and Bobby were standing in a forest._

_"Yip, yip, yip. Am I right?" Bobby asked._

_"Honestly, Bobby, I—I don't know what's right," Sam admitted._

_Bobby put an arm around Sam's shoulder. "Let's walk."_

~/~\~

Kim walked into Sam's room, and both Dean and Angela stood up.

"Hi." Dean greeted. "I'm just gonna break the ice. Are you an angel?"

"Sometimes I wish I were. My name is Kim Schortz." She introduced. "And I'm a grief counselor here at the hospital."

"Right. Yeah." Dean nodded. "Uh… sorry. I'm just tired. Well, all due respect, but, uh, we're not grieving—not yet at least, so—

"I'm afraid, as hard as this may be, this might be a good time to talk… about the inevitable." Kim interrupted gently.

Angela adjusted Grace in her arms. "Look, I'm sure you're a nice person and that you mean well, but 'inevitable'—that's a fighting word where we come from. There's always a way."

Kim pursed her lips. "And I am a prayerful woman who believes in miracles as much as the next, but I also know how to read an EEG. And unless you two are telling me you have a direct line to those angels that you were looking for—

"Yeah, no, I, uh… Guess we don't." Dean muttered. "But I might have something better. I got the King of Hell in my trunk." He added before leaving the room.

Kim looked at Angela, confusion evident on her face. "Uh, is—is that… a metaphor?"

~/~\~

Dean walked over to the Impala and rapped on the trunk. "Crowley, listen up, you son of a bitch. One for yes, two for no. You alive?"

He waited for a response and rolled his eyes when there was only silence.

"Come on, don't be a pouter." Dean pressed.

Crowley, inside the trunk, knocked once.

"There we go." Dean nodded.

Suddenly, a man in a suit grabbed Dean by the back of his neck and held an angel blade against his throat. "You prayed?"

"Yeah, for help," Dean replied.

"Yes. You'll be helping me." The man replied, forcing Dean down against the Impala's trunk. "If you lie to me, Dean Winchester, I will rip your throat out. Where is Castiel?"

"Who's asking?" Dean questioned.

"Try every angel who was ejected from their home." The man snarled.

"Oh. Oh, well, in that case, I have no clue." Dean replied.

The man slammed Dean against the Impala's trunk twice. He raised his angel blade, prepared to stab Dean, but another man caught his arm from behind.

"Easy there, brother." The taller man warned. "This young man has prayed for our assistance. Are we creatures of wrath or compassion? I would argue the latter."

The man in a suit furrowed his brows. "Forgive me, brother. I don't recognize you."

"Happy to make your re-acquaintance. After you disarm."

The man in the suit let go of Dean and help up his hands placatingly, then punched the taller man.

"Come, now. Is that any way to treat a brother injured in the fall?" the taller man asked.

The man in the suit lunged at the taller man, and they fought intensely. The angel blade fell to the ground and the man in the suit flung the taller man into a vehicle, breaking the window glass. Suddenly, Dean stabbed the suited man with the fallen angel blade.

"Who are you?" Dean asked the taller man.

"Never mind me. You're Dean Winchester. I heard your prayer, and I am here to help." The man replied before passing out.

"Okay." Dean pursed his lips.

~/~\~

The tall man woke on the ground in a circle of holy fire. Dean walked around outside the flames.

"You want to help? Start with a name." Dean demanded.

"Ezekiel." The man replied.

"Alright, Ezekiel." Dean nodded. "How do I know you're not hunting me and Angie or Castiel like the other angels?"

"Oh, I'm sure there are many angels who are. Many more are on their way here, most likely."

"How do you know that?" Dean narrowed his eyes.

"You put out an open prayer like that…" Ezekiel trailed off.

"I must really be desperate." Dean finished.

Ezekiel got to his feet. "Believe it or not, some of us still do believe in our mission. And that means we believe in Castiel… and you and Angela."

"You said you were hurt during the fall," Dean recalled.

"I was. Entangling with my brother back there did me no favors. But what strength I have left, I offer to you."

~/~\~

_Sam and Bobby walked through the forest, hands in their jacket pockets._

_"I want to fight. I do." Sam sighed heavily. "But I just feel like…"_

_"Like you got nothing to swing at? Like you're punching at shadows?" Bobby raised his brows. "You got to let go of fightin' and scratchin' and lookin' for loopholes, 'cause that ain't happenin'."_

_"So—so, what? I—I—I just die?" Sam asked. "I leave Gracie to grow up without a father?"_

_"Just die? All the good you've done, all the people you've saved, all the sacrifices you've made? You've saved the world, son." Bobby reminded. "And you know that Angie will make sure that little girl knows who you are. She'll know that her dad left the world better than how he found it. What you call dyin' I call leavin' a legacy."_

~/~\~

Dean and Ezekiel walked into Sam's room, causing Angela to look over at them. Her brows furrowed in confusion when her eyes landed on the angel.

"Dean, who's this?" she asked.

"Ezekiel." He replied. "He's gonna help Sam."

Ezekiel gently put a hand on Sam's chest.

"You're still able to cure things after the fall?" Angela asked skeptically.

"Yes, I should be, but… he's so weak," Ezekiel muttered.

Suddenly, Dean's phone started to ring. He fished his phone from his pocket and answered it. "Who is this?"

 _"Dean."_ Castiel's voice rang through.

Dean's eyes widened and he sent Angela a look before walking out of Sam's room. "Cas, what the hell's going on?"

 _"Metatron tricked me. It wasn't angel trials. It was a spell."_ Castiel explained. _"I wanted you to know that."_

"Okay. That's great, but we've got ourselves a problem." Dean replied.

 _"What's wrong?"_ Castiel asked concernedly.

"Sam. He's, um—they say he's dying."

_"What happened?"_

"I don't know." Dean sighed. "I mean, first he was okay, and then he wasn't. And I—have you heard my prayers? I've been praying to you all night."

 _"Dean,"_ Castiel started. _"Metatron—he—he took my grace."_

Dean's brows furrowed. "What?"

 _"Don't worry about me,"_ Castiel replied. _"What are you and Angela doing for Sam?"_

"Uh, everything we can. There's actually another angel in there working on him right now."

 _"What other angel?"_ Castiel questioned.

"Uh, his name is Ezekiel. He's cool. I mean, I think he is."

_"Ezekiel. Yes. He's a good soldier. He should be able to help until I get there."_

Dean's eyes widened. "Wait, no, no, no. No, hey, that's not an option."

_"It might be a few days, but—_

"Hey, Cas, listen to me." Dean interrupted firmly. "There are angels out there, okay? And they—they're looking for you, and they're pissed."

 _"Not all of them, Dean,"_ Castiel argued. _"Some are just looking for direction. Some are just lost."_

"What are you talking about?"

_"I met one. I think I can help her, Dean."_

Dean closed his eyes and sighed. "Dammit, Cas. Are you hearing yourself? There's a war on, and it's on you. There's thousands of them out th—You said you lost your grace, right? That means you're human. That means you bleed and you eat and you sleep and all the things you never had to worry about before."

 _"I'm fine, Dean,"_ Castiel assured.

Suddenly, there was rumbling throughout the hospital.

"Whoa." Dean frowned.

_"What's going on?"_

"I think we got company," Dean replied. "Look, get your ass to the bunker alone. You hear me?"

_"Dean."_

"Go, Cas!"

_"Dean!"_

Dean hung up and rushed back into Sam's room. Angela held Grace, who had started crying.

"One of yours?" Dean asked Ezekiel.

"Trying to secure a vessel. We need to move."

"No, no. If we move him, he dies." Angela replied.

"If we stay, we could all die," Ezekiel argued.

Dean grabbed a nearby whiteboard marker and started drawing Enochian symbols on the walls.


	2. I Think I'm Gonna Like it Here Part 2

"Long as these are up, no angels are coming in. No one's coming out." Dean gestured to the symbols on the walls. "You gonna be okay with these?"

"I'll manage," Ezekiel replied.

Suddenly, Ezekiel's face contorted in concern.

"What?" Angela asked, brows furrowed.

"They're here," Ezekiel replied.

"Okay. Angie, you stay here. Do not open this door for anybody but me." Dean commanded before turning to Ezekiel. "Save him, you hear me?"

Dean left the room and ran down the corridor as glass shattered from every window. He pulled one of the fire alarms. "Everybody out! Now! Get out!" he bellowed.

~/~\~

Dean approached Kim, who was lying on the floor.

"Hey. You got to get out of here." He said as he helped her up. "Come on. Come on."

Suddenly, a man came around the corner carrying an angel blade.

"Whoa. Stay behind me." Dean told Kim.

Dean pulled out his own angel blade. Kim punched him from behind, then grabbed him by the throat and lifted him off the ground.

"Or not." She snarled.

~/~\~

_Sam and Bobby were still walking through the forest. At the end of the path was a quaint cabin._

_"There it is." Bobby stopped walking. "Everything inside you need to help you on your way. Go on, son. I'll be waiting for you with a couple of cold ones."_

_Out of nowhere, Angela stabbed Bobby from behind. He fell to the ground with a knife protruding from his chest, then vanished._

_"Sorry, Bobby." Angela sighed._

_Sam stared in shock. "Angie, are you insane?!"_

_"Come on, Sammy. Bobby was the part of you that wants to die. I know it stings, but he had to go." She argued._

_"No. You have to go." Sam replied. "When are you gonna realize it's over?! There's nothing to fight for!"_

_Angela shook her head. "No, see, I know you don't believe that."_

_"Really? Then what's your plan, Angela?" Sam questioned._

_"My plan?" she narrowed her eyes before she punched Sam, causing him to reel back. "My plan is to fight!" she snapped. "My plan is to try! My plan is to give a damn!" she held him by the front of his jacket. "Are you telling me there's nothing? Huh? You telling me there's nothing to fight for, that there's nothing to hope for?!"_

_"No. I'm telling you there is. You might not like it. You might not accept it, but it's in there. It's in that house, baby." Sam explained._

_"You know what's in that house!" she yelled. "Now, I can't help you if you're not willing to fight for yourself!"_

_"I know, Angie." Sam put his hands on her arms, forcing her to let go of his jacket. "It's okay. It's what I want."_

_Sam leaned down and kissed Angela softly before she disappeared. Sam stood breathing heavily for a moment, then walked towards the cabin._

~/~\~

Kim and the other angel dragged Dean down the corridor, which was covered in broken glass. Dean's face was covered in blood. The two angels dropped him on the floor.

"Let me make this easy—tell me where Castiel is, or your brother's gonna wish he were dead." Kim threatened.

"Yeah, good luck getting past the warding." Dean retorted.

"But we will," Kim smirked.

The other angel broke the glass around a fire ax. Kim hauled Dean upright.

"And when we do, I'm gonna strip off all his skin, and you and Angela are gonna watch."

"Bite me." Dean snarled.

Kim punched Dean, sending him flying to the ground. He groaned, laughed, and got to his knees.

"Anybody ever tell you, you hit like an angel?" he sassed.

Kim kicked Dean, sending him sliding down the corridor.

~/~\~

_Sam slowly pushed open the cabin door and walked in. Death was standing by the fireplace looking at the flames._

_"Hello, Sam." He greeted, turning to face the younger Winchester. "I've been waiting for you."_

~/~\~

Dean was slammed against a wall in the corridor. He slid down the wall to the floor, his back to the angels. The man pulled the ax out of the door and Dean held up a hand.

"Okay, wait, wait, wait, wait. I'll tell you where Cas is." He grunted. "I just have one question."

"Ask," Kim replied.

"If Heaven is locked, then where do you go when I do this?"

Dean slammed his hand down onto an angel banishing sigil he'd drawn on the floor using his blood. White light flooded the corridor as the angels disappeared.

~/~\~

Dean walked into Sam's room frantically. The monitor was beeping loudly, and Angela stood by Sam's bedside, gripping his hand tightly. Ezekiel sat by the bed with a hand to his side.

"What the hell's happening?" Dean questioned.

"This just started." Ezekiel nodded to the monitor. "And the warding. I'm afraid I'm weaker than I thought."

Dean grabbed a marker and started crossing out the sigils on the walls.

"I am sorry," Ezekiel added sincerely.

Dean frowned deeply at the angel. "No. No, no, no. No, we had a deal, okay? I fight. You save."

"And would that I could," Ezekiel assured. "I'm just afraid it's too late."

"Are you kidding me?" Angela glared at Ezekiel. "Are you saying there's no way to save my husband's life?"

"No good ways, I'm afraid." Ezekiel sighed.

"Well, what are the bad ones?" Dean demanded. "We're out of options here, man. Good or bad, let us hear them!"

Ezekiel pursed his lips. "I cannot promise, but there is a chance I can fix Sam from the inside."

Dean's brows furrowed in confusion. "From the inside. So, what, you gonna open him up?"

"Possession." Angela realized.

Dean's brows immediately shot up. "Possession? You want to _possess_ Sam?"

"I told you." Ezekiel sighed.

"No way." Dean shook his head.

"Understood. It's your call."

"No, it's Sam's call." Angela murmured, looking at her husband sadly. "There's no way in hell he'd say yes to being possessed by anything."

"He would rather die." Ezekiel nodded.

Dean and Angela shared a look as Ezekiel got up, grunting painfully as he did so. He waved his hand, silencing the monitor.

"I'll leave you three alone, then," Ezekiel said as he walked towards the door.

"Wait…" Angela stopped him. "If we consider this—and I mean _just_ consider it—I need something. You have to prove to us how bad he is."

Ezekiel put a hand on Sam's forehead. "Close your eyes."

Dean took Angela's free hand in his and they closed their eyes. Ezekiel put a hand on Angela's forehead.

~/~\~

_"I must admit, when I heard it was you…" Death started. "Well, I had to come myself."_

_"I bet you get off on this," Sam muttered._

_"Perhaps." Death nodded. "But not in the way you assume. I consider it to be quite the honor to be collecting the likes of Sam Winchester. I try so hard not to pass judgment at times like this—not my bag, you see, but you… Well played, my boy."_

_"I need to know one thing," Sam demanded._

_"Yes."_

_"If I go with you…" Sam took a deep breath. "Can you promise that this time it will be final? That if I'm dead, I stay dead. Nobody can reverse it, nobody can deal it away… and nobody else can get hurt because of me."_

_"I can promise that." Death assured._

~/~\~

Ezekiel took his hand away from Angela's forehead. Dean let go of Angela's hand, and she adjusted Grace in her arm.

"What the hell are you doing, Sam?" Dean breathed.

"As you can both see, there's not much time," Ezekiel noted.

"We know. Dammit. We know." Angela sighed heavily. "How will it work?"

"Mutual benefit, I suppose. I heal Sam while healing myself." Ezekiel explained.

"And when he's healed?" Dean questioned.

"I leave," Ezekiel replied. "It's the best of a bad situation."

"Even if we said yes, it doesn't mean anything," Angela whispered. "Sam will never say yes—not to you."

"But he would say yes to you," Ezekiel told her.

Dean and Angela looked at each other for a moment. Sam would hate them for even considering this…

~/~\~

_Death stood up. "It's time, Sam. Shall we?"_

_Sam nodded and stood up to follow Death._

_"Hold on." Angela stopped him._

_Sam's eyes widened. "Angie…"_

_"It's okay, Sammy." She assured before looking at Death. "I, uh, would have brought cronuts, but time is short, so…"_

_"By all means." Death sighed heavily._

_"What's going on?" Sam questioned._

_"Dean and I found a plan." Angela walked closer to Sam._

_Sam shook his head. "It's too late. I'm going, Angie."_

_"No, no. No, no. Listen to me." She pleaded desperately._

_"Why are you even here? I'm not fighting this anymore!" Sam exclaimed._

_"You have to fight this!" Angela snapped, tears gathering in her eyes. "Dean and I can fix this, okay? But not if you shut us out!" she added. "It's not his time." She told Death firmly._

_"That's for Sam to decide." Death shrugged._

_Angela pursed her lips and looked up at Sam. "Sammy, listen to me." She begged. "We made you a promise in that church. You, Dean, and I come whatever. Well, hell if this isn't whatever… but baby, you gotta let me in. You have to let me help you. We need you. Gracie needs you. I need you."_

_Sam glanced at Death, then looked back at Angela, tears in his eyes. "What do I do, baby?"_

_"Is that a yes?" Angela asked hopefully._

_Sam paused for a moment before nodding. "Yes."_

_"Come on, Sammy." Angela smiled softly._

_She put a hand on Sam's shoulder and morphed into Ezekiel at the last moment. Sam looked alarmed as a white light flooded the room._

~/~\~

Dean, 'Sam', and Angela walked away from the hospital. Grace babbled from her place in Angela's arms.

"So? How's it look in there?" Dean asked.

"Not good," Ezekiel replied bluntly. "There is much work to be done."

"Yeah, but he's gonna wake up, right?" Angela asked.

"He will." Ezekiel nodded.

"So, what he does—what, is he gonna feel you inside, triaging his spleen?" Dean questioned, brows furrowed in confusion.

Ezekiel shook his head. "He will not feel me, no. There is no reason for Sam to know I'm in here at all."

"You're joking." Angela scoffed. "No, this is—this is too big."

"Angie's right," Dean sighed. "This isn't some little white lie."

"And what will he do if you do tell him he is possessed by an angel?" Ezekiel questioned.

"Well, he'll have to understand." Dean shrugged.

"And if he does not? Without his acceptance, Sam can eject me at any time, especially with me so weak." Ezekiel explained. "And if Sam _does_ eject me, he will die."

Angela pursed her lips. "Then we keep it a secret for now."

Dean's brows furrowed at her response. "Angie—

"Or until Sam's well enough that he doesn't need an angelic pacemaker, or we find a way to tell him." Angela continued, ignoring Dean. "As for him being in a hospital, we'll have to figure something out."

"I can erase it all, if you like," Ezekiel suggested. "He will not remember any of this."

~/~\~

"Angie, how can you be comfortable doing this?" Dean asked in a hushed whisper as he drove.

"I'm _not_ comfortable with it," Angela argued. "But what other option do we have, Dean?"

"If he finds out… he's gonna be pissed. _Beyond_ pissed."

"You think I don't know that?" Angela huffed. "Look, we will cross that bridge when we come to it, Dean."

Dean was about to say something but stopped himself when he noticed Sam starting to stir.

"Where are we?" Sam mumbled sleepily.

"Whoa. Sammy?" Angela asked concernedly.

"What?"

"Okay, take—take it easy. How you, uh—how you feeling?" Dean asked.

"Tired," Sam muttered. "Like I—I slept for a week."

"Well, try a day." Dean corrected. "You've been out since the sky was spittin' angels."

Sam blinked a few times. "What happened?"

"What do you remember?" Angela countered.

"The church, feeling like crap, the angels falling, and that's it." Sam shrugged.

"But you're feeling good?" Dean asked, brows raised.

"Yeah." Sam nodded. "I mean, I just, um… You've been driving around with me passed out in the passenger's seat for a day?"

"Oh, I mean, we stopped, you know." Dean shrugged. "Let a few Japanese tourists take some pictures. Nobody got too handsy." He joked, causing Sam to roll his eyes.

Angela pressed a kiss to Sam's cheek. "We knew you'd pull through. We meant what we said in the church. You're capable of anything, baby, and hell if you didn't prove us right."

"Good." Sam smiled softly at Angela. "'Cause we got work to do."


	3. Devil May Care Part 1

Dean was lying on a picnic table with his eyes closed. Sam and Angela sat down next to him. Angela held Grace in her arms.

"So, what, Cas is human?" Sam asked as he wrapped an arm around Angela's waist.

"Ish." Dean shrugged as he sat up. "I mean, he's got no grace, no wings, no… harp, whatever the hell else he had."

"Okay. Where'd he crash-land?"

"Called me from a payphone in Longmont, Colorado. I told him just to make for the bunker." Dean explained.

Sam's brows furrowed. "Well, you think he can handle a road trip like that?"

"Well, Cas is a big boy. Things go _Breaking Bad,_ he knows our number."

"Right now we've got bigger worries." Angela sighed.

"The fallen angels?" Sam asked.

Angela looked up at her husband. "Yeah. I mean, thanks to Metatron, we now have a couple of thousand loose nukes walking around here."

"What do you think they're gonna do?" Sam muttered.

"We got no damn clue." Dean sighed.

"What about Crowley? You, uh…" Sam mimed slitting his throat.

Dean pursed his lips. I would've loved nothing better than to ice that limey bitch. But then I thought to myself, 'what would Sam Winchester do'?"

"I'd've stabbed him in the brain," Sam answered.

"Oh." Dean pursed his lips. "Well, Angie and I figured that the King of Hell might know a few things, so why not Zero Dark Thirty his ass?" he explained as they got up off the table.

Sam frowned, confused. "Wait, so, Crowley is… alive?"

Dean opened the Impala's trunk to reveal Crowley. "Oh yeah. He's the junk in my trunk."

"Huh." Sam chuckled.

~/~\~

_Lebanon, Kansas_

Dean and Angela walked into the bunker. Grace slept in Angela's arms, her head resting against her mother's shoulder. Suddenly, an arrow came flying in their general direction, getting stuck in the handrail a few feet in front.

Angela's brows furrowed in confusion. "What the hell?"

Kevin stood up from behind his barricade of books and a flipped-over table, holding a crossbow. "Dean? Angie? You're alive!"

"Yeah, 'cause you're a crappy shot…" Dean pulled the arrow out of the handrail. "Katniss."

"Sorry." Kevin sighed. "It's been a bad couple of days. I-I haven't slept, or eaten, I… I'm pretty backed up."

"Okay, _overshare."_ Dean cringed.

"After we talked, this place went nuts, alright?" Kevin continued. "Th-there was some alarm, and all the machines were freaking out, and the bunker just locked down! I couldn't open the door, my cell phone stopped working, I thought the world was ending!"

"Close, hon." Angela pursed her lips. "The angels fell."

Kevin's brows furrowed in confusion. "The… what does that mean?"

"Nothing good." Angela sighed. "And, uh, listen, next time the world's ending, grab a gun." She eyed his crossbow.

Dean took the crossbow from Kevin and set it down on the table as he started to walk away, taking out his phone. "I got service."

Kevin flipped a switch on the bunker's control panel. "It's back online. Maybe when you opened the door from the outside door, it reset the system."

"Yeah, okay, let's go with that." Dean shrugged.

Sam walked into the bunker with Crowley, who was handcuffed, blindfolded, and had earmuffs on.

"Hey. All good?" Sam asked.

"Is it ever. Come on." Dean replied.

"I'll meet you guys in there, okay?" Angela assured. "I'm gonna put Gracie in her crib."

Sam, Dean, and Angela left the room with Crowley in tow.

~/~\~

Crowley was chained to a chair in the center of the devil's trap in the Men of Letters dungeon. Dean pulled off his hood and tore the duct tape off his mouth.

"Aah!" Crowley exclaimed in pain. "Hello."

Dean squared his shoulder and punched Crowley in the face. "Never get tired of doing that."

Crowley grunted and looked at the wall full of torture instruments. "Homey. Where did you get this fantastic little treehouse?"

"Alright, here's how this is gonna go." Angela started. "You're giving us the name of every demon on Earth, and the people they're possessing."

Crowley raised his brows. "Am I? Doesn't sound like me, Bambi."

"Angie and I saw you break down, Crowley." Sam retorted. "When I was trying to cure you, I know a part of you was human again, maybe still is."

"Blah, blah, boohoo." Crowley rolled his eyes dramatically. "Done? Good. 'Cause this is what I know. I'm not giving you anything. Why would I? You have no leverage, darlings. You're not gonna close the Gates of Hell, because you didn't, you're not gonna kill me, because you haven't. So, what's left?"

"We have a few ideas." Dean shrugged.

"Torture. Brilliant. Can't wait to see Sam in stilettos and leather bustier, really putting the S-A-M into S&M." Crowley smirked. "Honestly, you three. What are you gonna do to me that I don't do to myself just for kicks every Friday night?"

The three hunters exchanged a look, then turned and left the room, locking the dungeon's doors behind them.

"Have fun!" Angela called out as she turned the lights off.

~/~\~

"What's Crowley doing here?! Why isn't he dead?! Why aren't you stabbing him right now?!" Kevin questioned the hunters as they walked back into the main room.

"Alright, alright, chill out, Kevin, okay? We need him." Dean replied.

"What?!"

"Kevin, look," Sam sighed. "If we can get Crowley to give us the name of every demon he's got topside, we can hunt them down. All of 'em."

"He will break, okay," Dean assured. "When he does, we'll hold him down while you knife him. Then we all go out for ice cream and strippers."

"Just stay away from him, alright, hon?" Angela added.

Kevin sighed heavily. "So, now what?"

"I gotta make a few phone calls," Dean replied. "You need to hit the Angel Tablet, see if you can find anything on the spell that Metatron used to empty out Heaven."

"Yeah, maybe we can reverse it before the God Squad does too much damage." Angela sighed.

"Yeah, if we're lucky." Dean agreed. "Alright, check the net for anything angel-y."

"Or demon-y," Sam added.

"Or monster-y. Or ghost-y, or… it's gonna be a busy year." Dean muttered.

~/~\~

Dean was on the phone while Sam, Angela, and Kevin sat at the table doing research.

"Yeah, Irv, fallen angels."

 _"Huh. That's a wrinkle."_ Irv's voice rang through the speaker.

"Well, trust me, they're just monsters with good PR," Dean replied. "So, if you run into one, torch his ass with holy oil. Oh, and if they drop, uh, like, a silver sword, grab it. Those pigstickers come in handy."

_"Okay. Criminy."_

Dean sighed. "Hey, look, I know this is weird, but—

 _"Well, Dean-o, weird's what we do."_ Irv chuckled. _"I remember this case me and Bobby worked up in Saskatoon, had these two—_

"Werewolf Siamese twins." Dean finished.

_"He told you about that?"_

"Every time he drank Labatt's," Dean remembered fondly. "So, if you run into any problems, give a call, okay? The more hunters that know, the better."

 _"Rodger-Dodger,"_ Irv replied before hanging up.

~/~\~

Sam, Dean, and Angela pulled up to the crime scene in the Impala. Kevin was babysitting Grace back at the bunker.

"Oh, god. This place _reeks_ of sulfur." Angela wrinkled her nose as they walked towards the bus.

"Between the stink, with the freak thunderstorms, and every cow dead within three miles, I'll take demons for $1000, Alex," Dean muttered as the sergeant walked towards them. "Hey. Agents Stark, Banner, and Rogers, FBI. Just need to have a look around.

Sergeant Bates furrowed her brows. "Why? This is a military case, not a federal one."

"Well, that's not what our supervisor said," Sam argued.

"That so? Then maybe he and I oughta have a chat."

"Okay." Dean nodded as he took out his phone and dialed.

 _"Hey?"_ Kevin answered, confused.

"Hey, boss, uh… we got a little problem here," Dean replied.

 _"Boss?"_ Kevin's confusion continued.

"Yeah, just a local badge needs confirmation we're supposed to be here," Dean explained. "How the word came down from FBI headquarters in DC."

_"Wait, w-what?"_

"Yeah." Dean said before he handed the phone to Sergeant Bates."

"This is Sergeant Miranda Bates, who am I talking to?" she questioned.

_"Uh… Kevin. Solo."_

"How old are you?" Sergeant Bates narrowed her eyes.

 _"Old enough."_ Kevin retorted. _"And I'm with the FBI, so you have to do what I say, or…"_

"Listen, kid, I don't _have_ to do anything." Sergeant Bates retorted. "And I don't take orders from the Feebs. So, unless you can give me one good reason why you got a couple agents poking around my crime scene, I'm gonna put them in cuffs and spank your ass raw, understand?"

 _"Cabo, last June,"_ Kevin commented.

The sergeant's face visibly fell. "What?"

 _"That's my reason,"_ Kevin replied. _"My favorite is you in a sombrero doing a body shot off some naked guy in a Luchador mask. Super classy."_

"How did you find that?"

 _"'Cause I'm Kevin freaking Solo. So, unless you want this forwarded to your commanding officer, Major Velasquez…"_ Kevin trailed off. _"I suggest you give my agents anything they want. Understand?"_

Sergeant Bates clenched her jaw. "Yes."

 _"Yes, 'sir.'"_ Kevin corrected.

"Yes, sir." Sergeant Bates replied quietly. She handed the phone back to Dean and stalked off uncomfortably.

"Kevin? What the hell did you do?" Dean asked, shocked.

 _"All military computers are linked to the same network,"_ Kevin replied.

Sam motioned 'are we good?' to Dean, who nodded. Sam and Angela walked off toward the bus.

"And?" Dean asked.

 _"I hacked it,"_ Kevin said obviously.

"Hey, Kevin?" Dean smirked. "Good job, buddy." He praised before hanging up and joining the couple on the bus.

~/~\~

"Hey. Anything?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, this guy was shot in the heart," Angela replied with a frown.

"That what killed him?"

"Maybe—fifteen, twenty years ago," Angela muttered.

"Every one of these bodies has a fatal wound, or two, or three, but they're all old," Sam added.

"So, we're looking at meatsuits?" Dean sighed. "The bodies took a licking, and the demons inside kept them ticking."

"Probably." Angela nodded. "I think they were possessed. And now those soldiers are."

"Excuse me, agents?" Sergeant Bates asked as she walked onto the bus. "We pulled this off a security camera. You might wanna take a look."

She handed Sam her tablet with video footage that showed the possessed soldiers and a bus driver exiting the bus. Sam zoomed in on the driver, frowning when he noticed that it was Abaddon.

~/~\~

"Abaddon? Seriously?!" Dean exclaimed as they walked back to the Impala. "I thought you Kentucky fried that meatsuit."

"I did, Dean." Sam sighed.

"You—well, then how'd she get it back? And why's she playing G.I. Joe?"

"No clue," Angela muttered. "Why don't you ask her when we find her?"

"Oh, I will," Dean promised. "And then I'm gonna chop her freaking head off. Again."

~/~\~

Sam was on the phone as Dean drove. "Kevin, wait, wait, wait. Slow down."

 _"She gave me these coordinates,"_ Kevin started. _"44.053051 by -123.127860, and two names. Irv Franklin and Tracy Bell."_

Dean's brows furrowed. "Irv's a friend, don't know Tracy."

 _"Alright, the lady said they were hunters, and that if you didn't go save them, that she would kill them,"_ Kevin explained.

"Yeah, I've heard that song before," Dean muttered.

 _"Dean, who was she?"_ Kevin asked.

"She's the bad guy. Alright, new job, dig up everything the Men of Letters have on the Knights of Hell." Dean instructed.

 _"Knights of Hell?"_ Kevin replied. _"Sure."_

"You find a way to kill one, I mean _permanently_ , drop a dime."

"Oh, Kevin, how's Gracie?" Angela asked curiously.

 _"She's fine, Angie,"_ Kevin assured. _"She's napping right now."_

"Thanks, Kevin," Sam replied sincerely before hanging up. "The numbers point to a spot on the outskirts of Eugene, Oregon. You know this is a trap, right?"

"Yep." Dean nodded.

"And we're just gonna walk right into it?" Angela's brows furrowed.

"Guns blazing," Dean replied. "You guys with me?"

Sam and Angela looked at each other before looking back at Dean.

"You know it," Sam muttered.

~/~\~

Dean surveyed the ghost town, brows furrowed slightly. "The hell happened here?"

"Local chemical plant sprung a leak, years ago. They evacuated three square blocks." Sam explained. "Guess it's still contaminated."

"Wait," Dean's frown deepened. "So, this whole place is poison?"

"Yeah." Sam nodded.

Dean shielded his crotch with his hand protectively. Angela scoffed slightly, shaking her head.

"That's not gonna help." She noted.

"Doesn't hurt." Dean shrugged.

The three hunters walked through the abandoned town, eventually locating the worn-down diner. Sam, Dean, and Angela walked in, gripping their guns tightly.

"Dean, Angie," Sam called out.

Dean removed the gag from Irv's mouth. "Irv? Hey. Where's Abaddon?"

"Abaddon's been torturing hunters. She's trying to get intel on you three." Irv explained.

"Do you know why?" Angela asked.

"I seriously doubt she wants to add you to her Christmas card list," Irv replied. "Now, d'you wanna make with the rescue, or what?"

Dean held up his flask. "Right after you take a shot of holy water, huh?"

Dean and Angela both unscrewed flasks of holy water and made Tracy and Irv drink some, respectively.

"Happy?" Tracy raised her brows.

"Sorry about that." Dean apologized.

"Don't worry about it," Irv assured. "The last thing you need is us popping black eyes."

"You're Tracy, right?" Sam asked. "I'm Sam Winchester, and this is my wife Angela."

"Good for you." Tracy sassed.

"She's new." Irv sighed. "We did a shifter job in Sacramento together. Smart, but got a mouth on her."

Dean nodded and pursed his lips. "Let's gear up."


	4. Devil May Care Part 2

"Alright, we got Jesus juice," Dean started. "Guns loaded with devil's trapped bullets—shoot a demon, you put 'em on lockdown. The angel blade works…"

Suddenly, there was a noise outside and Sam and Angela went over to the window to investigate.

"They're coming," Sam warned.

"Good." Dean nodded.

"And they've got assault rifles," Angela added.

Dean pursed his lips. "Okay, less good."

"So, what's the play?" Irv questioned.

~/~\~

Dean rounded the outside corner of the diner. "Alright. We gotta flank SEAL team douche in there, so, uh, Irv, you, me, and Angie will go left, and Sam, you and Tracy go right."

"Okay. Let's move." Sam laid a hand on Tracy's shoulder.

Tracy promptly shoved him away, glaring at him. "Don't touch me."

Angela's brows furrowed. "Whoa. What's the problem?"

"My family's _dead_ because of him." Tracy retorted.

Sam's face visibly fell. "What?"

"I watched a demon slaughter my parents," Tracy explained. "And the whole time it talked about how it was _celebrating._ Some dumb kid let Lucifer out of his cage."

"Okay, alright, we gotta move," Dean muttered. "Girl's with me and Angie, Irv…"

Irv looked up at Sam, who remained quiet. "Okay. Let's go, son."

"Wait," Angela stopped them. She leaned up and kissed Sam quickly. "Stay safe. I love you."

"I love you, too, Angie. You come back in one piece, okay?" Sam murmured.

~/~\~

"Okay, I think they're still inside," Dean noted. "We wait till they come out, and we pick them off one by one."

Angela looked over at Tracy. "Listen, for the record, Sammy's not the only person who thought he was doing right and watched it all go to crap, okay? That's just part of being—

"Being a hunter." Tracy sighed.

"Being _human."_ Angela corrected. "Look, you wanna be pissed off at Sam, that's fine, I get it, Dean and I both do."

"Angie's right." Dean agreed. "If you wanna go after somebody, you make sure that they got black eyes. Gotta know who the real monsters are in this world, kid."

~/~\~

"Sam, you copacetic?" Irv asked.

"Yeah," Sam replied quietly.

"Good." Irv nodded. "Now, hand me that toothpick and you, Dean, Angela, and Tracy, you beat feet outta here."

Sam's brows furrowed. "What?"

"I'm going in there alone. I'll buy you as much time as I can."

"Irv, that's death."

"Yeah, well, it's what I've got coming." Irv sighed heavily. "It's my fault, Sam. I was… in some dive and I was sloppy, and lonely, and I met some girl. And next thing I know, I'm strapped to some bed, and she's twisting things that ain't supposed to be twisted."

"She, who?" Sam frowned.

"Abaddon." Irv teared up. "I gave 'em up. Pete, Tracy, I gave 'em all up. So, you hand me that blade, and you let me do what I gotta do, or so help me—

Suddenly, Irv was shot through the heart multiple times and crumpled to the ground, Dead. Sam shot at the sniper on the rooftop and made a break for the diner, diving inside.

~/~\~

Sam slid into the diner and came to a stop on the floor in front of Jason, who trapped Sam's wrist under his boot.

"Boo," Jason smirked.

~/~\~

Abaddon emerged out of nowhere and punched Dean to the floor. Both Angela and Tracy shot Abaddon in the chest repeatedly, but she barely flinched.

"Nice grouping." She smirked as she lifted her shirt to reveal a bulletproof vest. "Kevlar. Beats magic bullets. I _love_ the future."

Suddenly, Dean flung holy water at Abaddon, and she staggered backward, smoke rising from her face. Dean crawled up and handed Tracy his keys.

"Listen, my car is three blocks over," he started. "Go get more bullets, more holy water, get everything."

"No, n-no, but what about you guys?" Tracy stammered.

"Just go! Go! Now!" Angela pressed.

Tracy reluctantly ran off. Behind Dean and Angela, Abaddon had recovered from the holy water attack.

"Alone at last." She smirked.

Dean and Angela pulled out their angel blades, but before they could make a move, Abaddon flicked her wrist, forcing the hunters on their knees.

"I missed you two." She cooed. "Did you miss me?"

~/~\~

Sam fought against both Jason and the second demon soldier, getting thrown over the counter as they overpowered him. He scrambled back up as the third demon soldier entered.

"Cool, I didn't miss the best part." He grinned evilly.

~/~\~

"So, appreciate you coming when I call," Abaddon smirked devilishly. "I think that's what I like most about you Winchesters. You're so _obedient._ And suicidally stupid. I like that, too."

"Are we gonna fight or make out?" Dean questioned. "'Cause I'm getting some real mixed signals here."

"I want Crowley." Abaddon snarled. "Or what's left of him."

"Yeah? What's in it for us?" Angela raised her brows.

"I let you die. You give me Crowley's head, and I will snap your necks, quick and clean. You won't feel a thing, trust me."

Dean and Angela shared a silent look.

"And if we tell you to get bent?" Angela looked up at Abaddon.

"Oh." She pursed her lips. "Well… you know, Angela, I've loved your body since the moment I first saw it. You're the _perfect_ vessel. So, go ahead and play hard to get, and I'll peel off your 'no demons allowed' tattoo and blow smoke up your ass."

"Ooh." Angela mocked. "Well, I gotta tell you, between us, it is a _horror show_ up there."

"It can get worse. Trust me." Abaddon glared. "'Cause once I'm on top, I'll make you watch. And I'll use your body. Have you ever felt an infant's blood drip down your chin? Or listened to a girl scream as you rip her guts out? Because you will. We'll have a grand old time."

~/~\~

Sam was thrown into a wall and fell down, unconscious.

Jason gripped Sam's hair, holding his head up. "And here I thought all you Winchesters were supposed to be tough."

Suddenly, Sam's eyes opened and flashed blue. Ezekiel sent Jason flying across the diner with a flick of his hand and stood up, radiating white light.

~/~\~

There was a bright flash of white light from within the diner, blasting out all the windows.

"An angel?!" Abaddon growled.

"What, you think we'd roll up to this mouse trap without some backup?" Dean snarled.

Abaddon flicked her wrist, throwing Dean and Angela aside before disappearing. Dean helped Angela up.

"You okay, kiddo?"

"Yeah." Angela breathed. "You?"

Dean just nodded and they both ran towards the diner.

~/~\~

Ezekiel pulled the demon knife out of one of the demons as Dean and Angela walked in.

"They were going to kill him," Ezekiel noted, his back still turned to the hunters.

"Ezekiel?" Angela breathed out. "The hell did you do?"

Ezekiel turned around. "I was protecting Sam. I thought that was what you wanted."

"Right, yeah, no," Dean muttered. "Sorry, Angie and I are just still getting used to this whole thing."

"As am I." Ezekiel agreed.

"But, Sammy's okay?" Angela asked concernedly.

"He was knocked unconscious. In a way he still is." Ezekiel explained. "Sam will not remember any of this."

"So, what the hell are we supposed to tell him when he comes to?" Dean's. brows furrowed.

"That's why I used the knife," Ezekiel replied, holding the demon blade out.

"Right." Dean took the knife. "Smart."

Ezekiel looked at both Dean and Angela, who still looked slightly bothered. "You both are troubled, still."

Angela looked up at Ezekiel, clearly torn. All she wanted to do was run into Sam's arms for comfort, but this wasn't Sam, not really. She squared her shoulders slightly and pursed her lips.

"Look, it's just, uh, this is on us." She shrugged, glancing at Dean. "Dean and I were the ones who talked Sam out of boarding up Hell. Okay? So, every demon deal, every kill that they make… well, you're looking at the two people who let it happen."

Ezekiel looked confused at her reply. "You were protecting Sam. I am in Sam's head. Everything he knows, I know. And I know that what you two did, you did out of love."

"Yeah, uh, look, Zeke—I'm gonna call you Zeke—I'm not really with the whole, uh, love, and… love." Dean shrugged.

"But it is why I said yes."

Dean scoffed. "Yeah, and if that goes sideways, that's on us, too."

"That's not going to happen," Ezekiel assured.

"This is nuts." Angela shook her head. "I mean, you're Sam, but you're not Sam, and normally he's the one we're talking to about all this stuff. Dean and I are trusting you, Ezekiel."

"We just gotta hope that you're one of the good guys," Dean muttered.

"I am," Ezekiel assured. "But I suppose that is what a bad guy would say…" he added after a beat. "Dean and Angela Winchester, you are doing the right thing."

~/~\~

Dean and Angela were packing up their supplies. On the other end of the diner, Sam woke up with a groan.

"Sam? Sammy?" Angela asked as she and Dean walked over to him. "Hey, baby."

"Dean? Angie?" Sam looked between them. "What the hell happened?"

"You took a shot to the head, and we came in and saved your ass, like usual." Dean shrugged.

Sam's brows furrowed. "You guys killed three demons by yourselves?"

"We took 'em by surprise. Got a little messy, we got a little lucky." Angela lied as she helped Sam up. "Oh, and, uh, we're awesome, so there's that."

"Jeez." Sam chuckled. "You guys are pretty damn awesome."

Suddenly, the sound of the Impala's engine could be heard outside of the diner.

~/~\~

Tracy pulled up outside the diner and got out of the car.

"Hey." Sam greeted. "You okay?"

"Yeah. You?" she asked.

"More or less, yeah." Sam shrugged.

"Good." She replied before tossing Dean the keys. "I got everything, but guess I'm late to the party."

"Lucky you," Dean muttered. "Let's blow this toxic waste dump. Burgers and Silkwood showers on me."

~/~\~

Sam, Dean, and Angela walked down the bunker stairs. Dean held a bucket of fried chicken and a bottle of prune juice.

"Kevin?!" Dean called out.

"Kevin?" Sam and Angela asked.

The main level of the bunker was deserted. The three hunters exchanged a look, and Dean put down the food before the three of them ran downstairs.

~/~\~

Dean, Sam, and Angela walked into the dungeon, only to find Crowley still chained up. However, Crowley was now beaten and bloodied.

"Who worked you over?" Dean demanded.

"Martin Hayward and Brandon Favors," Crowley replied.

Angela's brows furrowed in confusion. "They did this to you?"

"No." Crowley rolled his eyes. "They're demons. You asked for names, I'm giving you names. They're underperformers. Spike them, you'll do me a favor."

"Wow." Dean scoffed. "You break easy."

"Please. Your little plan to let me stew in my own… _delicious_ … juices… pathetic." Crowley retorted. "You want intel. I want things, too. Maybe we can come to some kind of arrangement. Quid pro quo, if you will."

"So, these are what, then, freebies?" Sam questioned.

"Not at all. You can consider them fair trade for the enjoyment that Kevin gave me."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Angela's frown deepened.

"He's my new favorite toy," Crowley smirked. "Wind him up, watch him go."

"You guys check the names, I'll go find the kid," Dean instructed.

The three hunters quickly walked out of the dungeon, locking Crowley in the dark again.

~/~\~

Kevin walked towards the bunker's exit, carrying a backpack.

"Where d'you think you're going?" Dean questioned, getting no response. "Hey, hey. Hey, hey, hey, whoa. Talk to me."

"You can't keep me locked in here. I'm leaving." Kevin retorted.

"Like hell!" Dean snapped. "Man, we told you not to talk to Crowley, okay? He messes with your head."

"He said my mom's alive. Crowley said if I let him go, he'd give her back to me." Kevin explained.

"And you believed him?" Dean raised his brows.

"He's still in there, isn't he?!" Kevin lashed out.

Dean sighed heavily. "Crowley's lying."

"And if he's not?"

"Well… if she is alive, then she's dead. In every way that matters, she's dead, Kevin. I'm sorry." Dean replied. "I know you're dying to bolt, man. I get it. But out that door, it's demons and it's angels, and they would all love to get their hands on a prophet. So, even with Crowley here, this is still the safest place for you. It just it. And we need you, man."

"Because I'm useful." Kevin scoffed.

Dean frowned, taken aback. "Because you're family. After all the crap we've been through, after all the good that you've done… man, if you don't think that we would die for you… I don't know what to tell you. Because you, me, Angie, Gracie, Sam, and Cas, we are all we've got. But, hey, if none of that matters to you, then I won't stop you."

~/~\~

Dean walked into the library. Sam and Angela sat at one of the tables doing research, and Sam held Grace in his arms.

"Kevin's passed out in one of the back rooms. He's a tough kid. He'll bounce back." Dean explained as he poured three drinks. "What's up with you?" he asked Sam.

Sam pursed his lips. "Nothing. It's just… what Tracy said about me, she wasn't wrong."

"Sam," Angela sighed as Dean sat across from them. "Baby, listen to me. You have helped a hell of a lot more people than you have hurt. So, all of that… that was then. Okay? You have to forgive yourself for what happened in the past. Here's to now."

"Angie's right, Sam." Dean sipped his drink. "You've done a lot more good than bad."

Sam leaned over and pressed a kiss to Angela's temple. "So, are you guys ready for it?"

"Hmm?" Angela looked up at her husband.

"The fallen angels? Abaddon? Cas losing his halo, Crowley in our basement?" Sam clarified.

"Crap. We're living in a freaking sitcom." Dean scoffed. "What about you, how's the uh, the engine running?"

Sam shifted Grace in his arms. "Honestly, um, I feel better than I have in a long time. I mean, I realize it's crazy out there, and we have trouble coming for us, but I look around and I see friends, and family. I am happy with my life for the first time in… forever." Sam explained sincerely. "I-I am, I really am. It's just, things are… things are good."

Dean cast a quick glance at Angela before looking back at his glass. "Never better."


	5. I'm No Angel Part 1

_Lebanon, Kansas_

Dean, clearly just having woken up, poured himself a cup of coffee as Angela walked into the room, carrying Grace.

"Mm, is that coffee I smell?" Angela asked groggily as Grace babbled nonsensically.

"Yeah, here, I'll pour you some," Dean replied. "Where's Sam?"

Angela shrugged slightly. "He wasn't in bed when I woke up."

Dean frowned as he handed Angela her cup of coffee. The two hunters made their way from the kitchen to the main room, then to the library.

"Sam!" Dean bellowed. "You here?"

As if on cue, Sam entered the bunker through the front door carrying a takeout bag. "Hey! Morning."

Dean's face scrunched up as he checked his watch. "You've been outside already?"

"Yeah. Woke up, went for a run— _beautiful_ sunrise." Sam replied as he walked down the stairs to meet Dean and Angela. "Anyways, cleaned up, went and got breakfast, grabbed you _real_ bacon and eggs, extra grease, not even gonna argue." He added as he took a container from the bag and handed it to Dean. "And Angie, I got you a breakfast sandwich." He finished, pecking her on the lips.

"Mm, thanks, babe." Angela smiled as they all sat down at the table.

Grace looked up at her father with wide hazel eyes.

"Hey, Gracie." Sam cooed, tickling her stomach, pulling giggles from his daughter.

"Wait," Dean cut in. "You went running?"

Sam chuckled and looked at his brother. "What? Why do you look so worried?"

"Let's see," Dean replied. "There's Cas, who I told to haul ass here. That was days ago. He's still out there. Um, there's you."

"Me?" Sam scoffed slightly. "I feel great."

"I'm sure you do, but, Sam, you went through the trials." Dean reminded. "Okay, that put a big strain on you. I just think it's better if you took it easy, you know, and didn't act like you were—

Suddenly, Sam's eyes flashed blue and he straightened up.

"Possessed by an angel." Ezekiel finished. "And he _does_ feel better. A work in progress, of course, but I am slowly healing him."

"That's great," Angela assured. "Um, but, Sam—

"I have news." Ezekiel interrupted. "I've picked up chatter among the angels. Not all are wandering around in confusion."

Dean's brows furrowed. "Yeah, some of 'em are after Cas."

"There is a faction that is rapidly organizing and finding human vessels to contain them."

"Led by Naomi?" Angela asked curiously.

Ezekiel shook his head. "I have not heard that name, no. But it is this faction's leadership who want Castiel found. You see, I can be useful."

"So can Sammy," Angela replied firmly. "If we need your help, we'll let you know."

"Angela," Ezekiel started.

"She said we'll let you know." Dean interrupted firmly.

Ezekiel pursed his lips before his eyes flashed again. Sam leaned back in his chair.

"I mean, you know, Cas is human now." Sam sighed. "It's gonna take him a lot longer to travel."

Dean blinked a few times. "I'm gonna get whiplash."

"What?" Sam asked, confused.

"Nothing." Dean shook his head. "Um, alright, so, I was thinking that if the angels are organizing, then that makes them a lot more dangerous than we thought."

Sam looked even more confused than he did before. "Why do you think they're organizing?"

"It makes sense." Angela cut in. "What Dean's trying to say is, is that the more of them that are after Cas, the worse it is, so… we have to find him."

~/~\~

Dean was poring over a map of Colorado and the surrounding states, while Sam and Angela were on the laptop. Grace was in her high chair playing with a set of toy keys.

"Alright," Dean sighed. "So, this is where Cas called from Tuesday—Longmont, Colorado. Each circle is how far he might have gotten in one, two, and three days out."

"Okay. Here we go." Angela replied. "The same day he called from Longmont, weird murder, same town. Cops said it was like the girl was blasted from the inside out."

"Angel kill. They might have just missed Cas. Unless they got him."

Sam opened another news article on his laptop. "You got an Emory Park, Iowa?"

"Emory Park, Emory Park," Dean muttered. "I just saw that. Yeah, a couple days outside of Longmont."

"Okay, because two priests were murdered there Thursday," Sam replied. "Eyes blown out, evidence of torture. They were impaled on posts."

"Torture?" Dean asked.

"Yeah."

"Angels are looking for info." Angela sighed. "If they get to Cas before we do…"

"Yeah," Sam muttered.

~/~\~

Dean and Angela were in their FBI apparel and were talking to one of the homeless men.

"Yes. Yeah, I think I know this guy you're talking about. Sounds like Clarence."

"Clarence?" Dean raised a brow.

"The church—it runs a shelter in town, and we work here. We earn our keep. Clarence spent a couple nights, and then had to move on."

"And he left the day the bodies were found?" Angela asked.

"Matter of fact." The man nodded. "Oh, man, those poor guys were a mess. They must have suffered bad. But at least now they're with the angels."

"I sure as hell hope not," Dean muttered.

"Did Clarence happen to mention where he was headed?" Angela questioned.

"No." the man shook his head. "He just said he always had to keep going."

~/~\~

Sam was in the Impala, wearing his FBI apparel as well. He was typing on his laptop while Grace babbled from her car seat in the back. Dean and Angela got back into the car.

"Alright. Well, he's definitely been here." Dean sighed. "Good news is he's getting cagey. He's using a fake name—Clarence."

"That's what Meg used to call him." Sam chuckled. "Of course, he doesn't get that's the name of a pretty famous angel."

"What?" Dean's brows furrowed.

" _It's A Wonderful Life_ ," Angela replied.

Dean just shook his head, still confused.

"Dude, seriously?" Sam scoffed.

"What'd you come up with?" Dean asked defensively.

"Another angel kill, outside a town called Lafayette about a day's travel east of here," Sam explained.

"What is that, Indiana?" Dean asked.

"Yeah. Body was found in a homeless camp. Insides barbecued, the whole nine."

"Homeless guy?" Angela raised her brows.

"No," Sam shook his head. "A pharmacist from Dayton."

"Huh," Dean muttered.

~/~\~

Dean, Sam, and Angela were walking and talking with the police chief. Angela held Grace in her arms as they walked.

"Damndest thing I ever saw," the police chief started. "Vic had a stab wound, but it's not what killed him. It's like his insides were—

"Vaporized?" Angela raised a brow. "It's been going around."

"So, this guy was a pharmacist from Ohio?" Sam questioned.

"Apparently. Total family man, religious. One day, just hops in the SUV, takes off, dies under a bridge here from God knows what." The police chief explained. "This is stuff. Help yourself." He handed them two evidence bags before leaving.

"Thanks." The three hunters replied simultaneously.

Sam and Dean opened the bags and they went through the contents. Sam picked up a miniature Bible while Dean started flicking through the man's phone.

"Anything?" Angela asked.

"Nothing weird," Dean muttered. "Crappy music, a lot of podcasts, all the same one. Reverend Buddy Boyle's 'Goin' for Glory Hour.'"

"Cop said he was religious," Sam recalled.

Dean pressed play on one of Buddy's podcasts.

" _Join me in a heapin' helpin' of glory, friends. When you're in the presence of the divine, you'll know it. And if you let yourself, you'll hear it._ " Buddy's voice rang through.

Dean rolled his eyes and skipped ahead.

" _So, remember, when angels come a-knocking, let 'em on it._ "

Sam sighed heavily. "Angels can't possess a human without permission, right?"

"Yep." Angela nodded.

"So, what, they're using this guy to find vessels?" Sam questioned.

"It's a willing audience." Dean shrugged. "They're all religious types like our pharmacist here. Buddy Boyle was telling them to let the angels take them over."

"Like body snatchers," Angela muttered.

"How big a reach does this Boyle guy have?"

Sam typed something quickly and brought up a 'Global Influence' page from Buddy Boyle's website. "Pretty much the whole planet…"


	6. I'm No Angel Part 2

"Look, for the billionth time, we're just looking for some information, okay?" Dean sighed, clearly frustrated. "We're not cops. I mean, do we look like cops?"

The homeless people all looked amongst each other and nodded.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Well, we're not cops. We just need to find a friend who's in it deep."

"Look, he might have been here the night that guy was killed," Angela added. "Were any of you here then?"

"Maybe." One of the homeless men piped up.

"Oh, okay." Dean nodded. "Uh, he's—he's got dark hair, blue eyes, a little out of it."

Sam adjusted Grace in his arms. "He maybe called himself Clarence?"

"Clarence, yeah." The man nodded.

"You two talk?" Sam questioned.

"Not much."

"And, uh…?" Dean pressed.

The man shrugged. "I think he was on the run."

"Did you see him with the vic—uh, victim?" Angela asked.

"No."

Dean pursed his lips. "Okay…"

"He went off to sleep in another part of the resort." The man added.

"Where?" Dean asked.

"He's not there now."

"Where'd he go?" Sam sighed.

"I saw him running from under the bridge to the highway." The man explained.

Dean rolled his eyes again. "You gonna pay us for all this teeth pulling? Where was he headed?"

"He flagged a truck heading north. Detroit, probably." The man explained.

Angela's brows furrowed. "Why Detroit?"

"Truck was marked 'Motor City Meats.'"

~/~\~

Dean, Sam, and Angela walked out of the convenience store and started heading back to the Impala. Dean and Sam carried the groceries while Angela carried Grace.

"Look at these chemicals," Sam said as he looked at the container of pie. "Do you even read the label?"

Dean snatched the container away and scoffed. "No. I read 'pie'. The rest is just 'blah, blah, blah'. Listen, when we hit Detroit, we start with the homeless shelters."

"Right," Angela nodded. "Then go to the encampments, soup kitchens…"

"Check out the places that he might have gone looking for work," Dean added.

They passed a payphone, where a suspicious-looking man stood. He followed the Winchesters inconspicuously.

"Yeah, and Angie and I can—we can check for vagrancy arrests," Sam added.

"Yeah, and, you know…" Dean mimed a head exploding. "Odd deaths."

The three hunters rounded a corner, but when the man followed them seconds later, they were nowhere in sight. The man started down the street cautiously when Dean and Sam appeared out of nowhere and slammed him up against a chain-link fence, an angel blade and the demon blade against his throat. Angela stood close to Sam, holding Grace protectively.

"Who are you?!" Sam bellowed.

"Why are you trailing us?!" Dean demanded.

~/~\~

The man's wrists were cuffed to an overhead beam. Dean, Sam, and Angels stood in front of him, Dean clutching an angel blade.

"So, Maurice." Dean started. "You bounty hunters are like Delta Force reapers. Why would they sic you on Cas?"

"He warded himself," Maurice replied.

"Naomi hire you?" Angela questioned.

Maurice chuckled. "You really are out of the loop. Naomi's dead. Resting in pieces."

"So, then who's running things now?" Sam asked.

"Answer!" Dean yelled after a brief pause.

"Her protégé, Bartholomew," Maurice answered. "He's an up-and-comer."

"So, he figured we'd lead you to Cas," Angela replied.

"This Bartholomew, he organizing the angels?" Dean questioned.

Maurice didn't respond, and Dean slashed him with the angel blade.

"That's all I know," Maurice assured.

Dean just put the tip of the blade to Maurice's throat.

"You can kill me. It won't matter. If I don't find Castiel, there are others that will. But do what you want."

"Sure." Dean nodded, pushing the blade through Maurice's throat, killing him.

~/~\~

_Detroit, Michigan_

Dean pulled the car to a stop out of nowhere. Angela rested against Sam, who looked slightly confused.

"What's up?" he asked his brother.

"We've been chasing our tails all night. No Cas. 'What's up?' I'm fried." Dean snapped. "I think it's time for plan B."

Sam's brows furrowed. "I'm not following."

"I'm letting you know," Dean replied firmly, trying to get Ezekiel to take over.

"O-okay. Um, letting me know what?"

Dean pursed his lips. "I'm letting _you_ know."

Sam's eyes flashed blue and straightened up, signaling that Ezekiel had finally taken over. Angela pulled away from her spot against Sam and looked up at him.

"What is it?" Ezekiel asked, slightly annoyed.

"We need your help," Dean replied.

"That is flattering." The angel muttered. "We've been through this. I cannot be making public appearances."

"We understand that," Angela assured. "No one's asking you to walk the red carpet. We need your help finding Cas."

"It cannot be done. He is warded."

Dean rolled his eyes. "We know that, but maybe you can use you intergalactic, hyperspace, X-ray eyeballs to find someone else. There might be a reaper for rent on his ass. Could you find them?"

Ezekiel sighed, relenting. "I could try."

~/~\~

Angela had Grace in the papoose carrier as they walked up to April's apartment. Dean managed to kick the door open just as April stabbed Castiel in the chest.

"Cas!" Dean yelled, drawing his own angel blade.

April effortlessly used her angel powers to fling Dean and Angela into the kitchen bench, while Sam was flung into the closet across the room. She kicked Dean's angel blade away as she made her way over to Sam. Dean eyed the angel blade still sticking out of Castiel while Angela made sure Grace was okay. Sam stood up to face April, but before he could make a move, she punched him across the face and sent him back to the floor. She turned around just in time for Dean to stab her in the chest, killing her in a flash of white light.

Dean ran over to Castiel while Angela ran over to Sam.

"Cas. Cas. Cas!" Dean pleaded.

"Sammy?" Angela smoothed his hair back. "Sam!"

Dean shook Castiel, but he was cold and unmoving. "Cas!" Dean's voice broke. "No."

Sam regained consciousness and blinked up at Angela, who helped him up.

"Guys, he's gone…" Dean breathed out.

Sam brushed past Angela and approached Castiel, quietly and solemnly. Both Dean and Angela looked at Sam, realizing that is was actually Ezekiel. The angel knelt down and gently placed a hand over Castiel's chest. With another bright light, all of Castiel's wounds quickly healed themselves.

Ezekiel finally finished healing Castiel and stumbled backward, clearly weakened. Castiel gasped back to life as Ezekiel slumped back to the floor, unconscious again. Angela helped Ezekiel up while Dean kept an eye on Castiel.

"Dean." Castiel breathed, wide-eyed.

"Hey." Dean gasped out. "Hey! Yeah."

Sam woke up again, evidently shocked by the scene he'd woken up to.

"You good, baby?" Angela asked worriedly.

Sam just nodded, staring at Castiel, confused. The ex-angel turned to look at the couple.

"Sam, Angela." Castiel murmured.

"Cas. You're okay." Sam replied, stunned.

"Never do that again!" Angela told Castiel firmly.

"Alright," he nodded. "But I'm confused. I know she stabbed me, but I'm—well, I don't appear to be dead."

Dean pursed his lips and looked at Sam. "Well, you got dinged." He noted, turning back to Castiel. "And, uh, you. I made a deal with her. Said she wouldn't get kabobbed if she brought you back. She brought you back."

"You lied," Castiel said obviously.

"I did." Dean nodded. "I do that."

~/~\~

Sam, Dean, and Angela walked into the main room of the bunker.

"You know, you never answered my question," Sam started. "How did you guys know where to find Cas?"

"I told you," Dean shrugged as he took a bite of his burrito. "I went through Maurice's pockets. I found an address and took a shot."

"I never saw you go through Maurice's pockets," Sam argued.

"Well, Angie did," Dean replied. "Besides, I don't see half the nerdy stuff that you do. It doesn't mean that you don't do nerdy stuff."

Castiel walked into the room wearing fresh clothes. He carried Grace in his arms, and she shook the rattle that was in her hand.

"Aw, look at Gracie and her Uncle Cas." Angela cooed, a large smile on her face.

Castiel smiled down at his niece. "I am really enjoying this place." He commented, looking back at the hunters. "Plentiful food. Good water pressure. Things I never even considered before. There really is a lot to being human, isn't there?"

"It ain't all just burritos and strippers, my friend." Dean took another bite of his burrito.

"Yeah. I understand what you're saying."

"You do?" Angela raised her brows.

Castiel nodded. "Yes, there's more to humanity than survival. You… look for purpose, and you must not be defeated by anger or despair. Or hedonism, for that matter."

Dean's brows furrowed slightly. "Where does hedonism come into it?"

"Well, my time with April was very educational."

"Yeah," Sam chuckled. "I mean, I would think that getting killed is something."

"And having sex," Castiel replied obviously.

Dean practically choked on his burrito and Angela covered her mouth to stifle a giggle.

"You had sex with April?" she asked with wide eyes.

"Yeah, that would be where the hedonism comes in," Sam muttered.

"Shh." Dean hushed. "So… did you have protection?"

Castiel shrugged. "I had my angel blade."

Angela bit her lip, trying to stop herself from laughing. Dean, however, let out a laugh.

"Oh—oh, he had the angel blade."

"Um…" Sam pursed his lips.

"In any event, I—I do now see how difficult life can be and how well you three have led it," Castiel said sincerely. "And I think you'll be great teachers."

"Thanks, Cas." Angela smiled, taking Grace from his arms.

"Are there any more burritos?"

"Uh, yes." Dean pointed towards the kitchen.

Castiel nodded in thanks and walked away. Both Dean and Angela chuckled as Sam's body straightened up.

"Our little Cas." Dean grinned. "He gave it up to a reaper. That is—

"Castiel cannot stay here." Ezekiel interrupted. "He will bring the angels down on all of us."

Angela frowned. "No, no, he's got the Enochian tattoo. He's warded."

Ezekiel clenched his jaw. "He was warded when April found him, and she killed him."

"Yes, and you brought him back, and we thank you for that," Dean assured. "But this is Cas, okay, who vouched for you when we didn't know you from jack. The bunker is safe."

"Bartholomew is massing a force," Ezekiel stressed. "We cannot stand an incursion. Castiel is in danger, and if he is here, I am in danger."

"Wait, you're in danger?" Angela questioned. "From who, the angels?"

Ezekiel squared his shoulders and looked down at Angela. "If he stays, I am afraid I will have no choice but to leave."

"You… you can't do that. Sammy isn't well enough." Angela argued. "If you leave his body…"

"I know. I am sorry."

Dean and Angela looked at each other, unsure of what to do. On one hand, Castiel was their friend, and they wanted to keep him safe… But on the other hand, Sam would die without Ezekiel…

~/~\~

Dean and Angela walked into the library, where Castiel sat at the table, happily eating a burrito.

"Epic food. I can't get enough." He smiled.

"Um, Cas, hon, can we talk?" Angela asked gently as she sat next to him, adjusting Grace in her arms.

"Of course." Castiel nodded. "You know I always appreciate our talks, our time together."

Angela nodded, guilt settling in her stomach. "Right, um, Cas…"

"Listen, buddy." Dean sighed. "Um… you can't stay."


	7. Slumber Party Part 1

_Lebanon, Kansas_

Sam walked into the dungeon, where Crowley sat. Crowley blinked a few times at the sudden light streaming into the room, and looked up at the younger Winchester.

"Hello, Moose."

Sam just set a piece of paper and a black crayon on the table in front of Crowley.

"You want more demons names." Crowley narrowed his eyes, crumpling up the piece of paper. "I want a room with a view."

Sam silently smirked and turned around to leave, causing Crowley to frown.

"We can discuss this!" he called out. "I'd settle for stretching my legs!"

Sam didn't respond as he turned off the lights and shut the door behind himself.

~/~\~

Sam walked into the main room to see Angela sat at the map table, playing with Grace, who was in her highchair.

"Aren't you supposed to be researching?" Sam asked with a smile as he sat down next to his wife.

"Are you telling me that you'd be able to focus while this cute face is looking up at you?" Angela raised a brow as Grace reached for her rattle.

Sam chuckled, smiling at his daughter. "I wouldn't get anything done."

"Exactly." Angela smiled.

Grace mimicked her mother's smile and started giggling as she shook her rattle.

Sam smiled softly, knowing he should get back to work. But, he didn't want to miss a single moment of his daughter's life… she was too precious. Suddenly, Dean walked in through the door upstairs.

"Hey." Sam looked up at his brother. "How'd it go with Kevin?"

"Oh, that little nerd is in a lovely warded hotel room in Branson," Dean explained as he walked down the stairs. "He's got about 48 hours of pay-per-porn and Kenny Rogers ahead of him."

"How's he feeling?" Angela asked curiously.

"Well, he stared at the Angel Tablet and repeated the word 'falafel' for the entire ride," Dean replied. "Kid's cracked. I'm hoping this break will, uh, clear his head. You know, after everything that happened, I figured we could use a little break ourselves." Dean added as he opened a plastic bag. "So, I, uh, picked up season one of _'Game of Thrones.'_ Figured we'd get a little takeout."

"Alright." Sam nodded. "Well, first, I think I. might have found a way to help Cas."

Dean looked up suddenly concerned, and Angela stiffened slightly.

"Did you talk to him?" Dean asked.

"No." Sam shook his head. "And, by the way, I still don't understand why he left in the first place. I mean, the bunker is the safest place for him. Bartholomew and—and who knows how many other angels are out there, gunning for him."

"Hey, look, nobody wants him here more than Angie and I do, okay? But, uh, he felt like he'd bring trouble down on us, so he had to split." Dean lied.

"But, if you got a way to help him, we're all ears," Angela added.

"Alright." Sam nodded. "So, Kevin said the table lit up like a Christmas tree when the angels fell, right?"

Dean's brows furrowed. "So?"

"So, it turns out each light was where a cluster of angels fell." Sam continued. "So, I'm thinking maybe there's some way to hot-wire this, make it track angels. That way, we could help Cas steer clear of danger."

Angela raised her brows. "This was… your idea?"

Sam looked around, slightly amused. "Do you see anybody else in here?"

"So, how would it work?" Dean asked curiously.

"Oh, no idea," Sam admitted. "See, at first, I thought the table was the computer, but it's not. It turns out it's just _part_ of it. But, I did find these cables underneath, and I followed them. You guys are never gonna believe what I found."

~/~\~

Sam led Dean and Angela to a room full of electrical panels, shelves, and a very large, old computer.

"Voila," Sam smirked.

"This is a computer?" Dean's eyes widened.

"Yeah—or it was in 1951, when it was installed," Sam replied. "Now, here's the crazy thing. It's not plugged into anything. I mean, I have no idea what's making this thing work."

The three hunters walked around to the other side of the computer. Dean put his hands on the back of it.

"It's warm here." He muttered.

Dean looked around and found a flat screwdriver on the shelf behind him. He inserted it under the back panel of the computer and started to jimmy it open. He gave a giant pull and the panel popped off and sent Dean stumbling back into the shelf behind him, unknowingly knocking over a bottle with gray liquid in it.

"Got it." Dean scoffed.

"Huh," Angela muttered as they looked at the back of the computer.

"Well, that looks simple," Dean remarked sarcastically. "Does it come with a manual?"

"Nothing in the archives, and I obviously couldn't find anything like it online," Sam sighed. "Not to mention, I'm pretty sure that the Men of Letters doesn't exactly have I.T. support anymore, either."

Angela felt a lightbulb go off in her head. "I think I know somebody who could help us. Come on." She replied excitedly.

~/~\~

Dean and Angela sat at the table in the main room of the bunker. Angela had Grace on her lap and was bottle-feeding her. Suddenly, the door above them opened and Sam and Charlie walked down the stairs.

"Here it is." Sam smiled.

Angela set the bottle on the table and immediately got up to greet Charlie, carrying Grace in her arms.

"It's great to see you, Charlie." Angela grinned, giving her a one-armed hug.

"You too, Angie," Charlie replied before turning her attention to Grace. "And of course I'm always happy to see my favorite niece!"

Grace giggled and smiled a large, toothless smile as Charlie tickled her stomach. Dean walked over and hugged Charlie tightly.

"Thanks for coming." He said sincerely.

"Not a problem," the redhead assured. "Especially since I got fired last week."

Sam frowned as he set her bag on the table. "Hey, what? What happened?"

"Turns out the company I work for was outsourcing to child labor," she explained. "So I took a big Wikileak all over that. And, yeah. It's cool, though. It's given me more time to focus on my hobbies… like LARPing, macramé, and… hunting."

"Excuse me?" Dean raised his brows in alarm.

"Okay. It was just a _couple_ little cases." She defended. "I took down a teenage vampire and a ghost… which sounds like a Y.A. novel if you say it out loud."

"Charlie, how'd it go?" Sam asked, his voice laced with concern.

"It was, uh… It was intense." She admitted. "But I kind of wish hunting was more… magical, you know?"

Dean rolled his eyes while Sam and Angela just looked confused.

"Never mind." Charlie pursed her lips. "So, where is this Commodore 64 of yours?"

~/~\~

Charlie grinned as she looked at the ancient computer. "Sweet Ada Lovelace. This thing belongs in a museum. I mean, it's got encryption software. It seems to be powered by something magical."

"Skip to the end." Dean urged.

"It's kind of an alarm system. Global badness? It freaks." Charlie explained. "This computer is what locked this place down."

"Can we use it to track angels?" Angela asked, adjusting Grace in her arms.

"Alright. Let me see what I can do." Charlie disappeared behind the computer.

~/~\~

Charlie pursed her lips in concentration as she hooked up various wires and switches to her computer. "Alright. It took some doing, but now we can download. This beast has all the Men of Letters files. Time for a little drag-and-drop."

"Wow. Well, it's a start." Sam nodded. "Thank you. Um, that's—that's great."

Dean silently signaled to Sam to ask Charlie something.

Sam pursed his lips. "So, you've been hunting."

"Alone," Dean added firmly.

Charlie glanced over at Angela, silently asking for help.

"Don't look at me," Angela shook her head. "They're in full-on protective brother mode."

Charlie sighed. "I know. Not a good idea, according to the _'Supernatural'_ books."

"You really can't delete those from the internet?" Sam huffed.

"Not even I can do that. Come on!" Charlie laughed.

"Where do you even find them?" Dean questioned.

Charlie grinned cheekily. "A top-secret place I call Amazon. And someone uploaded all the unpublished works. I thought it was fanfic at first, but it was clearly Edlund's work."

"Who uploaded it?" Angela's brows furrowed.

"I don't know." Charlie shrugged. "Their screen name was beckywinchester176. Ring a bell?"

Both Dean and Angela looked sharply at Sam, who started to get extremely flustered.

"None," Sam replied quickly. "Uh, nobody's. Uh, no, there are no bells. Uh… No."

"Smooth, babe." Angela chuckled, earning a look from Sam.

"Uh, these files are encrypted." Charlie changed the subject. "This is gonna take a while. So, takeout, sleepover, braid each other's hair?"

"Got an idea." Sam grinned.

~/~\~

Dean, Sam, Angela, Charlie, and Grace were in Sam and Angela's bedroom. The room was covered in files and books. Dean and Charlie sat on the bed, Grace in Dean's arms while Sam sat on a nearby chair with Angela on his lap. Dean turned off the TV as the episode ended.

"Wow. That Joffrey's a dick." Dean commented.

"Oh, you have no idea. Wait until he—

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, who!" Sam stopped Charlie. "S-spoilers. I haven't read all the books yet."

Dean's brows furrowed. "You're gonna read the books?"

Sam rolled his eyes. "Yes, Dean. I like to read books—you know, the ones without the pictures."

Dean shook his head and looked down at Grace. "Sorry that your dad is such a nerd, Gracie…"

"Man, this bed is about as comfortable as a brick," Charlie noted with a frown.

"Tell me about it." Angela agreed.

"Any plans on moving in anytime soon?" Charlie raised a brow.

"Sam and I haven't quite agreed on a style." Angela sighed.

"Well, I'm sorry I haven't hung up the, uh, 'Hang in there, kitty' poster, yet." Sam retorted. "Feel free to redecorate, Angie."

"I might just do that." She replied. "Just wait till I have the bunker to myself."

Dean's brows furrowed. "So, what, our home's not good enough for the 'Hang in there, kitty' poster?" he asked his brother.

"This isn't our home. This is where we work." Sam argued.

"Um, this is where our daughter is going to grow up." Angela reminded her husband. "This is very much our home."

Charlie shifted uncomfortably. "Okay…"

Dean got up and adjusted Grace in his arms. "Alright, well, I'm gonna go get us some more beers. How about that?"

Dean quickly left the room with Grace.

"So, Charlie," Angela started. "What was all that about how hunting isn't magical?"

Charlie sighed heavily. "Saving people, hunting things, the family business? I am down. But… I was raised on Tolkien. I mean, where is all this?" she held up the Game of Thrones disc. "Where are my White Walkers and my volcano and a magic ring to throw in the damn thing? Where—where's my quest?"

"Magic, quests… suck," Sam admitted. "Trust us. They're all dead ends."

~/~\~

Dean, Sam, Charlie, and Angela walked into the computer room. Sam was carrying Grace, who held a rattle in her hand.

"Download should be done by now," Charlie noted.

Dean frowned when he noticed one of the shelves had moved. "What the hell? Sam, give me a hand."

Sam handed Grace over to Angela before he and Dean moved the shelf to reveal two gray pods on the wall. Sam pulled out his gun as Dean took out a knife and cut part of the way through one pod. Dean cut the rest of the way through and a woman fell to the ground. Dean drew his own gun before turning the woman over.

~/~\~

"Holy crap!" Charlie exclaimed as she and Dean read over the case folder on Dorothy. "The first case investigated in this bunker involved Dorothy. She and the witch came into this room, and they never came out. This will never stop blowing my mind!"

"Okay, pace yourself, Toto," Dean muttered.

"Oz is real! It's part of the fairy world!" Charlie replied.

Dorothy sat on the floor with a blanket around her shoulders. "We have to find her."

"No, we have to talk before anyone does anything, okay? Dorothy?" Sam asked.

"Talk?" she scoffed. "Typical Men of Letters, standing around, having a nice, little chat with your noses buried in your books while your little secretaries take notes."

"We're hunters." Dean corrected.

Angela adjusted Grace in her arms. "And we are so _not_ secretaries."

Dorothy looked between Charlie and Angela, obviously confused. "You're not secretaries? You're Women of Letters? W—how long have I been out?"

"That's why we need to talk," Sam replied. "Look, you've been gone for over 75 years. Now, according to our files, you came here to kill the wicked witch and then disappeared. What happened?"

"We couldn't find a way to kill her, so I did the only thing that I could," Dorothy muttered.

~/~\~

_Dorothy was in the computer room mixing a spell into the glass bottle when the wicked witch appeared._

_"It's you and me forever, bitch." Dorothy glared, capping the bottle._

_Both Dorothy and the witch disappeared in a flash of light. Haggerty flung the door open to find nobody._

_"Dorothy! Dorothy!"_

~/~\~

"A binding spell that came at a price—her soul with mine," Dorothy explained.

"So, you've been frozen with the witch for all this time?" Angela questioned.

"Yes." She nodded. "Look, the witch cannot be killed. If I am awake, then so is she."

"Wait, if she's here, why didn't she kill you?" Sam questioned.

"She can't."

"You're protected by the Witch of the North's kiss," Charlie remembered. "It's from the books."

Dorothy rolled her eyes and huffed. "Oh, forget the books! They're not important. I'm protected. You _aren't._ Now, the witch came here looking for something. I have no idea what it is. But we have to find her before she finds it."

"Alright, alright," Dean cut in. "Charlie, Angie, dig into the files. See if you can find anything that puts a dent in a witch."

"Mm-hmm." Charlie hummed.

"Got it." Angela nodded.

"Sam and I will have a look-see. Come on."

"I'm helping." Dorothy cut in.

"Yeah, I don't doubt it," Sam replied. "But for right now, why don't you rest up and help the smartest person in the room." He added before they left.

"So, big fan." Charlie smiled at Dorothy.

"Hmm."

"Ozma of Oz—

"Is a total ass." Dorothy scoffed.

Charlie sighed dejectedly. "You were much nicer in the books."

"Those books are the ravings of a sad, old man—my father."

"Wait," Angela frowned. "Your dad was L. Frank Baum, the writer?"

"A Man of Letters." Dorothy nodded. "Another glorified librarian, you ask me."

"Hey, these guys may have been sexist, but like all librarians, they were wicked smart, too." Charlie defended. "The dude who was here when you came in—Haggerty—he kept your case file open, worked it every day until he retired. Obviously, he never found you, but if you took five seconds to read, he did find a way to fight the Wicked Witch." She explained. "Do you remember the poppy fields in the first book?"

"That's not actually how it happened," Dorothy replied. "It was much bloodier."

Charlie rolled her eyes. "Stop… ruining my childhood. Do you remember the poppies?"

Dorothy just silently nodded.

"Good. Haggerty made a deal with a fairy and got some poppy extract. I'm gonna get some bullets from the gun range and make us some poppy bullets." Charlie explained. "So, are you coming, or what?"

Angela smirked proudly and looked at Dorothy. "Sammy told you she was the smartest person in the room."

~/~\~

Sam and Dean walked into the dungeon, guns at the ready. Crowley started whistling _'Somewhere Over the Rainbow."_

"Wow." He smirked. "If it isn't the Scarecrow and the Tin Man. Where's your Dorothy, Moose?" he added, referring to Angela. "Your new houseguest—so misunderstood."

The brother just stared at Crowley, clearly confused.

"Neither of you saw _'Wicked'?"_ Crowley asked.

"What did she say to you?" Sam retorted.

"Something along the lines of…" Crowley hissed loudly.

"Alright, well, I'm gonna go get some holy oil and a lighter, dick bag." Dean glared.

"I know what she's looking for."

"What does she want?" Sam questioned.

Crowley smirked. "I'd be happy to tell you, as soon as I get to stretch my legs."

Dean unlocked the neck cuff while Sam held a gun on him and Crowley stood, stretching.

"Alright. What does the witch want?" Sam demanded.

"Give me a moment. I still need to air myself out."

Dean pulled out his gun and shot Crowley square in the chest. "I think you're aired out enough."

"Rude," Crowley muttered. He held up the piece of paper with the word _'KEY'_ written on it.

Sam's brows furrowed. "Key? What key?"

"I haven't the foggiest." Crowley shrugged. "Had to send her off on a merry chase before she could melt me. Told her you kept the keys in the kitchen. You do have a kitchen in this crap hole, don't you?"

~/~\~

The boys walked into the kitchen with their guns drawn. Dean groaned at the sight.

"Dammit, I just cleaned in here."

"Really?" Sam raised a brow.

"Looks like we got a witch here." Dean sighed.

Charlie, Angela, and Dorothy walked into the kitchen and the boys swung around, guns drawn. When they saw that it was the girls, they put the guns away. Sam walked over and took Grace out of Angela's arms.

"Sorry," Charlie apologized. "We raided your gun range. Made us some poppy bullets. They won't kill the witch, but they will stun the crap out of her."

"That's my girl," Dean replied with a proud look.

"There was only enough for five bullets, so… make each shot count," Angela added.

"Now we just have to find her before she finds whatever the hell's she's looking for," Dorothy muttered.

"She's looking for a key," Sam replied as Grace tugged at his hair.

Charlie's brows furrowed. "How do you know?"

"Little birdie told us," Sam replied vaguely. "Ring any bells, Dorothy?"

"Unfortunately." She sighed heavily. "It's the key to Oz. There are magical ways into Oz—tornado, eye of a hurricane, whirlpool—but this key will turn any locked door into a portal to Oz. Insert key, twist, and presto, you're in Oz."

"How did the Men of Letters get the key?" Sam questioned.

"I have no idea." Dorothy shrugged. "But if she finds it, she'll go back and finish what she started. She'll destroy all that is good in Oz. She's got armies of witches, flying monkeys. Many will die."

"What's this key look like?" Angela asked curiously.

Dorothy pulled out her journal and showed the hunters a picture.

"I've seen that key." Dean realized. "Found it when I was doing inventory."

Dorothy looked up at Dean. "Where is it now?"

"My room. We got to get to that key." He muttered. "Alright, Charlie, Angie, and I will go look in my room. Why don't you guys buy us some time?"

Sam handed Grace back to Angela and kissed his wife on the cheek before leaving with Dorothy.

"Charlie? Safest place in this joint is the dungeon." Dean commented.

Charlie raised her brows in surprise. "You have a dungeon in this place? Of course you do."

"So maybe you should…"

"I am not hiding." Charlie cut Dean off. "Especially in a dungeon. Wicked Witch, a key, a quest? Let's do this?"

"C-Charlie…" Dean trailed off as she bounced away. "Angie, can you talk some sense into her?"

"It's cute that you think I can do that." Angela chuckled.

~/~\~

Dorothy and Sam walked through the main part of the bunker.

"I can't believe I've lived here for 75 years." She muttered. "How long have you called this place home?"

"My brother and my wife call it home." He corrected. "Me, I, uh—I haven't had that much luck with homes."

"Me neither." Dorothy sighed softly. "Overrated, you ask me. Yellow bricks or not, give me the open road any day."

Suddenly, Dorothy turned to see the Wicked Witch behind Sam.

"Sam!"

She shot a poppy bullet at the witch, but missed, and the witch disappeared into a nearby vent.

"She can get anywhere from there. Split up, cover more ground?" Dorothy suggested.

~/~\~

Charlie, Angela, and Dean searched through Dean's room for the key. Angela held Grace with one arm as she searched. Charlie opened a box full of antique porn.

"You keep your porn meticulously organized, but not—

"Don't judge me." Dean cut her off. "Ah! Yahtzee." He grinned as he pulled out the key.

Charlie and Angela turned around and saw the witch standing behind Dean.

"Dean!" Angela yelled.

The witch managed to grab the key from Dean's hand and slapped him into the wall; stunning him. She then prepared to throw green lightning at him. Suddenly, Charlie threw herself between Dean and the lightning bolt.

"Charlie!" Angela cried out, shooting the witch with a poppy bullet.

Charlie fell to the ground as the witch disappeared into the vent. Dean stood up, staring at Charlie in concern.

"Charlie? Charlie?" he bent down and shook her.

Angela knelt down next to her best friend. "Charlie?!"


	8. Slumber Party Part 2

Dean carried Charlie to his bed and lied her down. "Charlie?"

Angela put Grace in the pack-and-play. She walked back over to the bed and brushed the hair out of Charlie's face. "Charlie? Please, Charlie."

"Angie! Dean!" Sam yelled from the hallway.

"Zeke!" Dean whipped around.

Sam entered the doorway but immediately his eyes flashed blue.

"You have to help her." Dean pleaded.

"She's gone," Ezekiel replied.

"No." Angela shook her head. "You can bring her back like you did with Cas."

"I cannot keep doing that, Angela." Ezekiel sighed.

"Why the hell not?!" she snapped.

"I am _barely_ back to half-strength. Every time I use my power, it weakens me, which means I will have to stay in Sam longer than you want—longer than we all want." Ezekiel explained. "The witch running around your bunker is very powerful. I can help with the witch _or_ save your friend."

"Save her," Dean replied immediately.

"As you wish." The angel nodded.

Ezekiel approached Charlie and placed two fingers on her forehead. She gasped and sat up as Ezekiel fell to the ground unconscious.

"Merry Christmas." Charlie breathed.

"Charlie?" Dean asked concernedly as Angela went to check on Sam.

"Uh. Hey, I know you." Charlie muttered.

Dean sighed in relief. "I told you to stay in the dungeon."

"Bet you say that to all the girls."

Suddenly, Sam jolted awake. "Angie? Dean?"

"Hey, baby." Angela knelt next to him.

"Sammy?" Dean looked over at his brother.

Sam's brows furrowed. "What the hell just happened?"

"The witch—the witch was about to put a whammy on me, and, uh, Charlie jumped in front. She got zapped, then the witch got the drop on you." Dean explained.

"Then why aren't we dead?"

"That's a good question." Dean nodded.

"I, uh—I clipped her with a—with a poppy bullet," Angela added. "She got the key. I think she's gone."

"No," Dorothy replied as she walked into the room. "She's wounded. We should still have some time. She could still be in the air vents."

Charlie tried to get up from the bed, still woozy. "No. No, no. She's right. We—we have to—we—

"Whoa, whoa, whoa." Dean steadied her.

"Just go," Dorothy instructed. "We'll catch up."

Charlie gestured to Sam. "M-my gun's over there. There's one bullet in it."

Sam grabbed the gun, and Angela stopped him before he could leave.

"Be safe." She leaned up and kissed him softly.

"You too." Sam murmured before he left with Dean.

"Can we be best friends now?" Charlie asked Dorothy.

~/~\~

The brothers walked down the hallway with their guns drawn, looking for the witch.

"Who's Zeke?" Sam asked out of nowhere.

"What?" Dean frowned.

"When I came into your room, before I got zapped, I thought you said the name, Zeke," Sam replied. "Who's that?"

"Um… I think you're still a little punchy, man. Just keep moving."

~/~\~

Charlie sat on the bed, and Angela sat next to her with Grace in her arms. Dorothy knelt in front of Charlie.

"I had the weirdest dream when I was out," Charlie muttered. "It was Christmas, and my parents were still alive, and—

"Dream?" Dorothy interrupted. "Charlie, you died. Don't worry about it, though. You're not a real hunter until you've died and come back again."

"That's true." Angela nodded in agreement.

"Slow down," Charlie frowned. "One, Angie you're gonna have to explain that. Two, why would you think I died?"

"Heaven—it's your dream life. And if you were zapped by the Wicked Witch, instant death. I would know." Dorothy explained. "She killed me, too."

"Okay. Let's rewind here a bit." Charlie stopped her. "When did you die?"

"In Oz," Dorothy replied. "My father was obsessed with his work as a Man of Letters, and then I was born… and nothing changed. He would keep his work a secret, but I was such a curious kid. I was always looking for trouble, looking for the next big adventure."

"I know the feeling." Charlie chuckled.

"I stowed away on one of his cases, wound up in the emerald city, accidentally got left behind," Dorothy explained. "It was terrifying."

"What happened?" Angela asked curiously.

"I met up with these three freedom fighters, and they thought I was this child of destiny chosen to kill the Wicked Witch. They protected me, and then the witch turned them into—

"A scarecrow, a tin man, and a lion?" Charlie raised her brows.

Dorothy nodded and sighed. "And then she hunted me down and killed me."

"Yeah, that never made it to the books," Charlie muttered.

Dorothy smirked. "Sometimes real life is darker than fiction."

~/~\~

"Why haven't you moved in?" Dean asked as the combed the main room.

"Is now really the time for this, Dean?" Sam sighed.

"Well, just asking." He shrugged. "Angie seems like she wants to move in."

"Look, I never had what you had with mom and dad, okay?"

Dean's brows furrowed. "What are you talking about?"

"I don't have any memories of home," Sam replied. "And whenever I've tried to make a home of my own, it really hasn't ended well."

"Yeah, but a lifetime of abandoned buildings and crappy motel rooms. I mean, this is about as close to home as we're gonna get, and it's ours."

~/~\~

The three women walked down the hallway. Angela now had Grace in the papoose carrier.

"And what about the books?" Angela asked curiously.

Dorothy rolled her eyes. "Revisionist history. That's my father's way of trying to undo what had happened to me. But I knew the truth. When the witch came to our world, I became a hunter, and my father wrote those silly books."

"Don't you get it?" Charlie sighed. "The books aren't silly. They're guidebooks filled with clues he left for you. Haggerty pored through each one, and his research led him to uncover the poppies, so maybe there's something else from the books we can use, preferably something with a pointy end."

Dorothy lit up and something dawned on her. "You are a genius!"

"Of course she is." Angela grinned at her best friend.

"We've got to get to the garage!" Dorothy exclaimed.

Charlie looked at Angela in shock. "There's a garage in this place?!"

"Don't look at me." She shrugged. "I didn't know."

~/~\~

"Clear. I got nothing." Sam noted. "What do you think? Is she gone?"

Dean turned around to see the witch grab Sam and almost shoot green lightning at him.

"Sam!"

Dean rushed to them and knocked all three of them over the table. Before they could recover the witch placed her hands on their foreheads, causing their eyes to flash green.

"Find the girls…" the witch said through Sam.

"And kill them." The witch said through Dean.

~/~\~

Dorothy turned on the lights and looked around the garage, spotting an old motorcycle. "Yes! I knew those boy scouts would keep it for me."

The girls rushed over to the bike and Dorothy started to take items out of the saddlebag. She held up a tin mask.

"Is that…?" Angela trailed off.

"Yeah." Dorothy grimaced. "He didn't make it."

"Ooh," Charlie muttered.

Dorothy put down the mask and continued digging through the bag. "Please be here. Please be here. Yes!" she pulled out a pair of ruby high heels.

"I don't believe it." Charlie's eyes widened. "Did you really walk down a brick road in these?"

"No." Dorothy shook her head. "I never actually wore them. Seemed kind of tacky wearing a dead woman's shoes. Plus, I'm no good in heels, you know?"

"I don't suppose we could just wish her away?" Angela asked hopefully.

"Sorry. Another thing the books got wrong." Dorothy replied. "But, like the poppies, these have magic from Oz—sharp magic."

"Oh. Death by shoe?" Charlie nodded.

"There you are," Dean said from behind.

Charlie turned around to see the brothers and grinned. "Was that your Batman voice?"

Suddenly, the brothers' eyes flashed green. Charlie frowned immediately.

"That's definitely not your Batman voice."

"It's her." Dorothy breathed. "She possessed the both of them."

"I missed you, my pretty," Sam smirked evilly at Dorothy.

"Killing you a second time will be just as sweet as the first," Dean added.

"Guys, I know you're in there." Angela tried to stop them. "You can't let the witch do this! If she opens the door, she's going to destroy Oz!"

Sam grabbed Angela by the shoulders and smashed her into a glass window. "I have no intention of escaping to Oz. I'm going to bring my armies here."

"Baby, please," Angela begged as Grace started crying from the papoose. "I know you're in there. You don't want to hurt us!"

"Don't worry," Sam smirked. "You'll join Dorothy and your friend right after you watch them die."

Angela pursed her lips. "Forgive me for this, Sammy." She muttered before kicking him between the legs.

Sam doubled over in pain and Angela managed to escape. Dorothy threw the ruby high heels at Angela and Charlie.

"Go!" she exclaimed. "I'll buy you some time."

Charlie and Angela left and Dorothy turned to face the possessed brothers.

"Alright." She smirked. "Let's see what you pencil necks are made of."

~/~\~

Dorothy stood up, beaten and bloody. "Alright, let's do this the old-fashioned way."

"My body cannot hurt you, Dorothy," Sam noted.

"But theirs can," Dean added.

Sam grabbed Dorothy and Dean held the demon knife to her throat.

~/~\~

The Wicked Witch suddenly when stiff and she turned around. Angela and Charlie stood behind her and a ruby high hell was stuck in the witch's head.

"Now heel," Charlie smirked as she jabbed the second heel into the witch's face.

~/~\~

The Winchesters' eyes flashed green, breaking the spell. Sam immediately let Dorothy go.

"What the hell just happened?" he breathed.

"Charlie and Angela." Dorothy grinned.

~/~\~

Charlie and Angela managed to close the heavy door before the flying monkeys could get through. Charlie opened the door after a few moments, just to make sure, and the girls just saw an empty hallway. They heard the others making their way back into the room.

"Ding-dong, bitches." Charlie grinned at the brothers.

"Nice of you to join us," Angela added as Grace started to settle down.

~/~\~

Sam put Crowley back in the neck cuffs. He then set a new piece of paper and the crayon back on the table and turned to leave the room.

"Really, after all I did with Ms. Defying Gravity?" Crowley scoffed.

Sam just turned off the lights and closed the doors behind him.

~/~\~

Sam held Grace in one arm as he, Angela, and Charlie walked into the garage. Dorothy and Dean stood next to the Impala.

"Baby looks good in here, huh?" Dean smirked.

"Not bad." Sam grinned.

Charlie motioned her head to the side. "Dean, Angela…"

"Dorothy," Sam started. "I, uh—I found something in the archives. Pretty sure it belongs to you."

Sam handed Dorothy a copy of _'The Wonderful World of Oz.'_

Dorothy smiled. "You have no idea how odd it is having a series of books written about you."

"Actually, I-I do know," Sam chuckled. "Uh, and it is _definitely_ weird. But you know what? End of the say, it's our story, so we get to write it."

Dean, Angela, and Charlie stood a few feet away.

"So, thanks for the slumber party…" Charlie trailed off.

"Mm." Dean hummed.

"And bringing me back from the dead." Charlie lowered her voice.

"Uh, we didn't." Dean scoffed.

"She knows, Dean," Angela replied.

"Am I a zombie now?" Charlie asked concernedly. "Do I need to eat brains?"

Dean sighed heavily. "No, no, no. You're you. You're gonna be fine, alright? Just, um—just keep this between us, okay?"

"Alright, but only 'cause you guys raised me from the dead," Charlie huffed. "Which you're going to have to explain to me later."

"Of course." Angela agreed.

They walked over to rejoin Sam and Dorothy. Sam adjusted Grace in his arms, who gripped a piece of his hair.

"Not bad for a bunch of librarians," Dorothy smirked. "You mind keeping an eye on my bike for me?"

"Yeah, yeah." Dean nodded. "As long as you don't mind me taking it for a spin once in a while."

"Deal. Thank you for everything. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a rebellion to finish." She replied before turning to Charlie. "So, you coming or what?"

Charlie's eyes widened. "What? With you? To Oz?"

"Yeah." Dorothy nodded. "You said you were looking for adventure. Well, here it is, Red. Come help me find my damn dog."

Dean looked heavily concerned. "You have no idea what's in Oz! I mean, t-there's flying monkeys, armies of witches. There's all kinds of danger."

Charlie lit up. "Promise?"

She jumped to hug Dean, who immediately hugged her back. She then went and hugged Angela.

"I'm gonna go crazy without you." Angela joked as she hugged Charlie back.

"I'm gonna miss you, Angie." Charlie smiled softly before going to hug Sam.

"If you need anything, just, uh, tap your heels three times, okay?" Sam smiled.

Grace reached out for Charlie, and she immediately took Grace from Sam.

"I'm gonna miss you most of all." Charlie smiled at her niece.

Grace giggled and clutched Charlie's shirt with her tiny hands.

"Take care of yourselves." She murmured to the hunters as she handed Grace back to Sam.

Dorothy and Charlie turned and inserted the key into the double doors at the end of the garage. They pushed it open to reveal a beautiful landscape with a yellow-brick road running through it. They walked into Oz and turned to wave goodbye. The doors closed behind them. Dean, Sam, and Angela pushed the doors back open to reveal an underground tunnel.

"Think she'll be back?" Dean asked wistfully.

Sam held Grace in one arm and wrapped the other arm around Angela's waist. "Of course. There's no place like home."

Angela smiled up at her husband and rested her head on his shoulder. Dean just smiled softly.


	9. Dog Dean Afternoon Part 1

_Lebanon, Kansas_

Sam and Angela sat at the table as Dean came into the room carrying Grace.

"Wow." Dean sighed heavily.

"What?" Angela looked up at him.

"Kevin. Just poured some buffalo milk down his gob _twice."_ Dean replied. "And then this little one woke up." He smiled at Grace.

Grace smiled a toothless smile and clapped her hands choppily.

"What's buffalo milk?" Sam wrinkled his nose in disgust.

"A hangover cure-all. It's got everything in it." Dean explained. "Except buffalo milk."

"How is that kid _still_ recovering from Branson?" Angela muttered.

"What can I say? He's an amateur." Dean chuckled. "The slippery nipple shots at the Dolly Parton Dixie Stampede nearly killed the guy."

"Alright." Sam nodded. "Well, uh, I got something that's gonna get us back on the road."

Dean sat down on the other side of Sam and held Grace on his lap. "A case?"

"Yeah." Sam nodded.

Dean frowned slightly. "You sure you're ready for that?"

Sam looked slightly confused. "Why would I not be ready for that?"

"Aren't you kind of running on empty?" Dean questioned.

"Yeah, but the last three nights straight, I had eight hours of shut-eye. Angie's made sure of it." Sam shrugged. "For a hunter, that's like 20. Trust me, Dean. I feel good."

"Well, that's great and all, James Brown, but you're still recovering from the trials." Dean reminded. "I think you ought to pace yourself, you know? And the sooner you heal…"

"Yeah?" Sam prompted.

"Baby, we just want you back to your old self." Angela cut in.

"I am, Angie," Sam assured. "Look, Kevin's back on the Heaven spell. Crowley's locked up. We should be out there doing what we do best."

"Yeah…" Dean sighed.

"You want to listen at least? Okay, great." Sam nodded. "Taxidermist named Max Alexander mysteriously crushed to death. Nearly every joint in his body dislocated, every bone broken. Poor guy is a human pretzel. You tell me what's got that kind of strength?"

"A demonic luchador?" Dean suggested.

"Shop's a couple hours away in Enid, Oklahoma." Sam shrugged. "We should at least check it out. Unless there's some reason you think we shouldn't."

Angela pursed her lips. "I'll go see if Kevin feels well enough to babysit."

~/~\~

_Enid, Oklahoma_

A sign read _'Mounted Treasures Taxidermy. Shipping and Receiving. Est 1967.'_ _'DIE SCUM'_ had been written on the wall and door in red paint. On the painted _'M'_ was a symbol of a dog's paw print in an inverted triangle. Sam, Dean, and Angela in their FBI apparel approached.

"Subtle." Angela scoffed.

"Check that out." Sam pointed to the symbol. "Huh." He muttered as he snapped a picture with his phone.

~/~\~

Dean, Sam, and Angela walked past mounted trophy heads and stuffed animals.

"Well, the creep factor just skyrocketed," Dean muttered.

The Sheriff held up his hands, stopping the hunters. "Whoa, whoa, whoa."

"How are you?" Sam asked. "Agents Michaels, Deville, and Dall."

"The body's already been to the morgue." The Sheriff replied. "Just wrapping it up with Dave Stephens. He's the one who discovered the body. Such a shame. I used to go hunting with Max. He was a real good egg."

"Sorry for your loss," Angela replied gently.

"Thanks." The Sheriff nodded.

"You mind showing my partners around?" Dean asked. "I just got a couple questions for Mr. Stephens."

"Okay." The Sheriff nodded. "Come on."

Sam and Angela followed the Sheriff into the next room. Dean approached Dave.

"Dave Stephens?"

"Yeah." Dave nodded.

"I just got a couple questions for you if that's alright."

"I'll tell you whatever you need to know," Dave assured. "Max was a… a real pal."

"Hunting buddy?" Dean inquired.

Dave looked slightly impressed that Dean figured that out. "Mm. Yeah."

"Eh, lucky guess." Dean shrugged. "So, uh, about what time did you discover the body?"

"About 9 a.m.—my usual pickup time," Dave replied. "I come in every Wednesday and Sundays, uh, to collect the entrails."

"The what?" Dean's brows furrowed.

Dave pursed his lips. "The animal organs."

"Ah."

"After Max would, uh, dig them out and work his magic." Dave continued.

"Huh." Dean wrinkled his nose.

Sam held up one of the _'Game of Thrones'_ squirrels, which wore a dress with a large bow. Angela shook her head, instructing him to put it down.

"He, uh—he was a real artist, you know? Strange thing is, though, uh, bins were empty this morning." Dave recalled.

"Why is that strange?" Dean questioned.

"Well, because it's a Sunday," Dave replied obviously. "Weekend hunts are pretty much a given in this neck of the woods, so they're usually, mm, chock-full of guts."

"Ah."

"Mm." Dave nodded.

"Any chance Max could have cleaned them out himself?" Dean asked curiously.

"No." Dave shook his head. "It's a—it's a biohazard. You can't just, you know, throw the stuff out. You got to burn it."

The Sheriff walked back into the room, hands on his hips.

"Huh." Dean nodded before looking at the Sheriff. "Is there, uh, anything else missing from the shop?"

"No. The register was full, and the safe was intact." The Sheriff sighed. "And all of Max's trophies were still on the walls."

"And was there anybody else here when you showed up?" Dean questioned.

"No one. No, other than, uh…" Dave looked at the German shepherd. "The Colonel."

"Hmm." Dean nodded as Sam and Angela walked back into the room. "Excuse us."

Sam, Dean, and Angela walked a short distance away.

"So?" Angela looked up at Dean.

"Okay, so, uh… we got a thief who's jonesing for animal parts, we got a pagan symbol, and we got a human pretzel," Dean muttered.

"Yeah, it all sounds very witch-y, but we weren't able to find a hex bag." Sam sighed.

"Alright, well, let's keep digging." Dean sighed, eyeing a stuffed owl. "But, uh, not here. I don't like the way that one's looking at me."

~/~\~

Sam sat on one of the motel beds using his laptop. Angela sat next to him, resting her head against his shoulder.

"Okay, uh, that… symbol in the graffiti, it's… not Wiccan," Sam commented. "It's copywritten. Local animal-rights group, Enid's answer to PETA."

Dean walked over and peered at the laptop, brows furrowing. "S.N.A.R.T.? You got to be kidding me."

"Well, it makes sense that an animal-rights group would have an ax to grind with a taxidermist," Angela muttered.

"Why?" Dean asked. "The animal's already dead."

"Yeah, but hunters are what keep them in business." Angela countered.

"Now the question is, are those bleeding hearts actually witches or just hippies?" Sam sighed.

Dean frowned slightly. "What's the difference?"

~/~\~

The three hunters, still dressed in their FBI apparel, walked into the vegan bakery.

"Always knew I'd find the source of all evil at a vegan bakery," Dean muttered as he looked around.

Sam wrinkled his nose. "What's that smell?"

"Patchouli," Dean answered. "Yeah, mixed with depression from meat deprivation."

"Hmm." Sam nodded.

"Hey." Dean nodded to a couple wearing sunglasses. "You know who wears sunglasses inside? Blind people. And douchebags."

"Olivia and Dylan Camrose?" Angela asked as they walked to the counter.

"At your service." Olivia smiled.

"You two are members of S.N.A.R.T.?" Dean questioned.

"Founders and co-presidents, actually," Olivia replied proudly. "Uh, can we interest you in some literature?"

Olivia held up a S.N.A.R.T. brochure. Angela shook her head while Sam made a 'no' motion with his hand.

"Or a flaxseed scone?" Dylan offered. "It's wheat-free, gluten-free, sugar-free, and surprisingly moist."

"Let me stop you right there." Dean cut in as they flashed the FBI badges. "Uh, we're here to investigate the death of Max Alexander, a local taxidermist."

Olivia's smile immediately fell. "He's… dead?"

"You knew him?" Angela raised a brow.

"Ish. Um… small town." Olivia replied.

"Well, he was murdered last night, and a S.N.A.R.T. logo was found at the crime scene," Sam explained. "You two wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?"

Olivia and Dylan just looked at each other.

~/~\~

Dylan, Olivia, Dean, Sam, and Angela sat around a table in the bakery.

"His business is funded by hunters," Dylan started. "And you know how hunters are. They're selfish dicks who define themselves by what they kill."

"And as animal advocates, we couldn't stand for that," Olivia added.

"So, you killed him?" Angela questioned.

"Of course not!" Olivia gasped. "S.N.A.R.T. doesn't tolerate violence."

"Huh." Dean nodded. "This is coming from a couple who spray-paints death threats."

"It was a scare tactic," Dylan replied. "We just wanted to spook him."

"Turns out _we_ were the ones who got spooked."

Sam's brows furrowed. "What does that mean?"

Olivia pursed her lips. "Well, last night, when we were tagging the joint, we heard this noise."

"A hissing noise," Dylan added.

"It freaked us out, so we ran out into the alley."

"But someone attacked us," Dylan recalled.

"Sprayed us in the eyes with mace." Olivia continued.

"And it's not like we could go to the cops!"

"So, now we look like total douchebags because we have to wear our sunglasses inside." Olivia huffed.

The couple removed their sunglasses to reveal blotchy red skin around their eyes. Dean cringed and made a hand motion to indicate that they should put their sunglasses back on.

~/~\~

"Necrosis?" Dean raised his brows.

Sam sat at the table in front of his laptop while Angela stood behind his chair, running her fingers through Sam's hair.

"Premature death of tissues—that's why their eyes were all messed up," Sam explained as Dean walked over, opening a beer. "And it's not caused by mace."

"Alright. What caused it?" Angela asked curiously.

"Right here. 'Blunt force, radiation, venom.'" Sam replied.

"As in 'snake'?" Dean frowned.

"The taxidermist was constricted." Sam shrugged. "Olivia and Dylan heard hissing, and they were sprayed in the eyes."

"By venom," Angela muttered.

"By venom." Sam nodded.

"Okay, so… What are we talking here, some sort of freaky-ass snake monster?" Dean asked as he sat opposite Sam.

"Maybe." He pursed his lips. "The weird thing is snakes either envenomate or constrict. No snake does both."

"Correction—freaky-ass mega-snake monster."

Sam laughed. "It could be a Vetala."

"Yeah, but they're not afraid to sink their fangs in," Angela noted. "Taxidermist was bite-free. It doesn't really fit the profile."

"Right. So…?" Sam exhaled.

"Let's call Kevin." Angela shrugged. "Plus, I wanna see how Gracie's doing."

~/~\~

A young man was in an open body bag. Dean, Sam, and Angela were in their FBI apparel.

"Claw marks?" Dean asked.

"Yeah. The cops said all the cats went missing." Angela replied.

The three hunters walked slowly past the kennels.

"Right, so, yesterday, uh, we're dealing some sort of a snake monster," Dean muttered. "Today, it's a killer kitty."

"I don't know." Sam sighed.

"Hey." Dean paused in front of the German shepherd's kennel. "Why does that mutt look familiar?"

Angela read the chart clipped to the kennel. "That was the taxidermist's dog."

"So, he's been at both crime scenes?" Dean raised his brows.

"Yeah." Sam and Angela replied.

"Maybe he's a suspect," Dean suggested. "You know… could be a skinwalker, maybe a shapeshifter."

"Doesn't really look like a monster to me," Angela muttered.

Dean held up a silver dollar. "One way to find out. Come here, boy. Hey. This isn't gonna hurt at all. Unless it hurts."

Dean rubbed the Colonel behind the ears with the silver dollar. The Colonel didn't react.

"Hmm." He hummed.

"I guess we can, uh, rule out killer." Sam chuckled.

The Colonel barked loudly as the Sheriff walked over to them.

"Do you agents need any further assistance?"

The Sheriff removed his hat and the Colonel immediately stopped barking.

"Officer, I think we're okay. Thanks." Angela smiled politely.

"Alright, well, let me know."

The Sheriff replaced his hat on his head and the Colonel started barking again.

"Officer," Dean cut in. "Excuse me. Uh, can I borrow your hat?"

The Sheriff unquestioningly took off his hat and gave it to Dean. Dean put on the hat and the Colonel started barking again. Once he took off the hat, the Colonel went silent. Dean handed the hat back to the Sheriff.

"Good luck getting adopted." The Sheriff told the Colonel before walking off.

"Okay, so, the Colonel's not a suspect." Angela pursed her lips.

"Yeah, but he's a witness," Dean replied. "Hey, boy. You speak sign language?"

"That's monkeys." Sam corrected.

"Huh?" Dean looked at his brother.

"You know what? This is gonna sound crazy." Sam took out his phone. "I read this book once about this guy who tried to teach his dog to speak after it witnessed a murder."

Dean looked surprised. "It worked?"

"No," Sam replied.

"But he wrote a book about it?" Angela raised a brow.

"Yeah, well, he doesn't have what we have," Sam muttered. "Kevin. Hey, it's me. How do we speak to a dog?"

~/~\~

Sam, Dean, and Angela sat at the table in the little motel room. The Colonel lied on the floor.

"An Inuit spell," Dean said.

"Yeah." Sam nodded. "Who knew the, uh, Men of Letters had its own Eskimo section?"

"And it's supposed to let us communicate with the Colonel?" Dean questioned.

Angela plucked a hair from the Colonel's coat. "Yeah, well… that's the plan." She replied as she put the hair in a bowl and stirred the contents. "Kevin said it's like a sort of a human/animal mind meld."

"Meaning?" Dean raised a brow.

"If it works, we should be able to read the Colonel's thoughts," Angela replied as she poured the contents of the bowl into a glass.

"Alright, I'll do it." Dean shrugged as he took the glass.

"Why you?" Sam's brows furrowed.

"You—you got enough on your plate." Dean shrugged.

Sam rolled his eyes. "Like what?"

"Uh, like… you're tired." Dean pointed out. "You're on the mend. Okay? Plus, you—you've got a sensitive stomach. Last thing we need is you chucking this stuff up. Huh?"

Sam just scoffed. Dean looked at the red liquid in the glass.

"Doesn't look so bad." He muttered before drinking the liquid in one gulp. "I was wrong. Come on."

Sam handed Dean a book.

Dean cleared his throat. "Ha! Deila hér me. Dag eru nou rar vitur orum." He chanted before looking at the Colonel. "Alright. Let's get this party started. Tell me everything you know."

The Colonel just yawned loudly.

"What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?" Dean laughed, earning unamused looks from Sam and Angela. "Tough crowd."

The Colonel barked. Dean looked at the couple and shook his head, signaling that he didn't understand.

~/~\~

The three hunters were eating take-out as Foreigner's _'I Want to Know What Love Is'_ played on the radio.

"So, call Kevin," Dean suggested. "Spell tasted like ass and was a bust."

"At least it didn't affect your appetite." Angela chuckled. "Geez."

"Yeah." Dean agreed.

The Colonel sat at Dean's feet and looked up at him. "Change the station."

Dean looked down at the Colonel, obviously confused.

"Change the station." The Colonel repeated.

"What?" Dean asked.

"What?" Sam frowned in confusion.

"You—shut up. It's working!" Dean exclaimed.

Angela's eyes widened. "It—go!"

"Say that again," Dean told the Colonel.

"You call this classic rock?" the Colonel scoffed. "Next thing you know, they'll be playing Styx. And Dennis DeYoung? A punk."

Dean looked deeply offended. "Dennis De Young's not a punk. He's Mr. Roboto, bitch."

Sam's brows furrowed. "Why are you arguing with the dog about Styx?"

"Wh—uh, yeah. Um, hey, boy," Dean started. "What were you trying to tell us about Cowboy Hat?"

"The douchewheel who killed my best friend was wearing a cowboy hat." The Colonel replied.

"And the pothead, too?" Dean questioned.

"Yep. Same guy killed both."

"Ask about the cats," Angela suggested as she threw a rolled-up food wrapper into a garbage can.

"Yeah, uh," Dean casually took the wrapper out of the garbage and put it in front of Angela. "And what about the cats?"

"I don't know." The Colonel replied.

Angela frowned and held up the food wrapper. "I don't want this."

"I couldn't see much," the Colonel explained. "I didn't exactly have the best view in the orphanage. Oh, but I could smell him. Guy reeked of red meat, dishwashing detergent, and tiger balm."

"Huh." Dean nodded.

"So, what's he saying?" Sam pressed.

Angela threw the food wrapper towards the garbage can again, missing this time.

"Uh, that the—the guy," Dean grabbed the wrapper from the floor and tossed it across the table to Angela. "He smelled like ground chuck and soap suds and old-lady cream."

Angela held up the wrapped, clearly confused. "Dean, what are you doing?"

Dean scratched behind his ear and shrugged. "I don't know."

The Colonel turned his head on the side and laughed. Dean continued to scratch behind his ear.

"Oh, what are you laughing at?" Dean scoffed at the Colonel.

Suddenly, a vehicle pulled up outside of their motel room.

"Uh…" the Colonel trailed off.

The Colonel started barking loudly. Dean stood up, went to the window, and parted the curtains. A mailman was getting out of the vehicle.

"Hey! Hey, hey! Yeah!" Dean pointed at the mailman. "You! You!"

The mailman looked at Dean but walked away. The Colonel continued to bark.

"Hey! Hey! Hey, hey, you! You! You! You!" Dean growled.

"Uh, Dean?" Angela asked, stifling a laugh.

"Hmm?"

"I think the spell worked," she started. "In fact, I think it worked a little _too_ well."

Dean sat down at the table again, brows furrowed. "What?"

Angela chuckled. "I think… you might be a dog."

"What?" Dean repeated as he scratched behind his ear.

"Angie's right," Sam smirked. "You're scratching your head. You're… _barking_ at the mailman. You're playing fetch." Sam threw the food wrapper at the garbage can.

"I…" Dean trailed off, looking at the wrapper. He whimpered as he restrained himself from getting it. "Ruh-roh."


	10. Dog Dean Afternoon Part 2

Angela held her phone to her ear. "Yeah. No, that—okay. Alright. Thanks. How's Gracie doing?"

Dean sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the Colonel, who looking back at him. Sam stood next to Angela, an arm draped around her shoulder.

"Okay. Thanks again for babysitting, Kev." Angela smiled. "Okay. Bye." She hung up. "So, apparently, the Inuit spell has some side effects."

"Oh, well, that would have been nice to know before I downed it!" Dean snapped. "What kind of side effects?"

Angela pursed her lips. "When you mind melt with an animal, it's… _possible_ to start exhibiting some of its behavior."

"Don't look at me, Hoss." The Colonel told Dean. "It ain't my fault."

"Well, how long am I gonna have the urge to…"

"Sniff butts?" the Colonel laughed.

"Oh, whoa." Dean stopped him. "Hey. I don't have the urge to _sniff butts."_

"Yet."

Sam's brows furrowed. "Do you really h-have the—

"No! Come on!" Dean snapped.

"Well, Kevin doesn't know how long it'll last." Angela sighed. "It's not like it's an exact science, you know? But hopefully, when the spell wears off, so will the side effects."

Dean pouted and took a bite of his chocolate bar.

"I wouldn't eat that if I were you." The Colonel noted.

Dean stopped with a piece of chocolate between his lips.

"Chocolate? Seriously." The Colonel scoffed.

Dean just let the piece of chocolate fall out of his mouth.

~/~\~

Sam, Dean, Angela, and the Colonel walked across the motel parking lot to the Impala. Dean had the Colonel on a leash.

"Where we headed?" the Colonel asked.

"Back to the shelter," Dean answered.

"To sniff out more clues, maybe dig up something we missed?"

Dean rolled his eyes. "Alright, one more doggy pun out of you, and I'm gonna have your nuts clipped."

"I hate to break it to you, Hoss," the Colonel replied. "My sack's emptier than Santa's after Christmas."

Suddenly, bird crap appeared on the Impala's windshield.

"Aw, are you kidding me?" Dean groaned.

A pigeon sat on top of a lamp pole above the Impala.

"Hey, dick move, pigeon!" Dean yelled.

"Screw you, asshat." The pigeon retorted.

Dean looked at Sam and Angela. "Did—

"What?" the couple asked, confused.

"Wait a minute. Can I hear _all_ animals?" Dean asked curiously.

"Yep." The Colonel replied. "Animals have a universal language—like Esperanto. But this one actually caught on."

"And I'm just getting started, too." The pigeon laughed. "Brewing a real big one. Bet your ride's gonna look sweet in white."

"What's he saying?" Angela asked.

"You—he's being a douchebag!" Dean snapped.

"Who you calling 'douchebag,' douchebag?" the pigeon retorted.

"Oh, shut it, you winged rat!" Dean yelled.

Sam and Angela looked around at a man and woman watching them.

"Dean." Angela hissed.

"What?"

"Hey." Angela waved to the man and woman. "Dean, just calm down. Just get in the car."

"Ha, ha. That's right, Sally. Go cry to mama." The pigeon mocked.

Dean took out his gun and pointed it at the pigeon. "Oh, that's it, you son of a bitch!"

"Dean!" Sam grabbed Dean's arm and pulled it down. "Get in the car."

Angela just waved in two directions to onlookers as Sam got Dean into the car.

~/~\~

The Impala pulled into the parking lot. Dean and the Colonel both stuck their heads out the windows. As Sam parked the car, Dean blinked and looked somewhat perplexed as he brought his head back inside the car.

"I think it's probably best to just leave the Colonel in the car," Sam suggested as they got out.

Dean looked offended. "Excuse me?"

"Well, all the windows are open." Angela shrugged.

"You think we like that?" Dean scoffed.

Sam and Angela gave each other confused looks before looking back at Dean.

"We?" Sam questioned.

"You think because the windows are open that that's some sort of treat, huh?" Dean raised his brows. "No, the dog's coming in."

"Respect." The Colonel replied.

Dean rubbed the Colonel on the head and opened the door for him. They were headed for the door of the shelter when Dean's attention was grabbed by a white poodle with pink bows on the ears. Both Dean and the Colonel stared at the poodle.

"Dean," Sam called out.

Dean shook his head, pulling himself out of the trance. "Yep."

~/~\~

"So, what else can you tell me about the man with the cowboy hat?" Dean questioned.

"Honestly, I couldn't see much." The collie replied. "Damn cataracts. And you know no one's going to pay for my surgery. Just another casualty of the system, I guess. I don't belong here, you know. I'm pedigreed."

"Well, I'm sure you'll be out of here soon," Dean assured.

"Please. I'm 14."

Dean pursed his lips. "Good luck… ma'am."

He closed the door to the collie's kennel and walked slowly away.

"Once a day they clean these cages. Once a day!" another dog exclaimed.

"Okay." Dean sighed.

"A biscuit. Just one biscuit."

"I need a Raquel Welch poster and a rock hammer."

"I'm shaking in the fence, boss. Still shaking the fence."

"Over here!"

"I was framed!"

"Over here!"

"I'm shaking the fence, boss. Still shaking the fence!"

Sam and Angela stood at the end of the kennels.

"Any luck?" Angela asked.

Dean sighed heavily. "Hardly. And I'm not getting any clues—just a bunch of complaints."

"Hey, pretty boy." A Yorkie called out. "Over here."

"Yeah, uh, sorry, pal. I'm done for the day." Dean replied.

"But I saw everything!" the Yorkie argued. "And I'll tell you, but it'll cost you."

"What? Are you kidding me?" Dean scoffed. "I'm being extorted by a dog. Well, what do you want, huh? What? Beggin' strips? Snausages?"

"Bitch, please. If I'm gonna rat someone out, it's got to be worth my while. I want… a belly rub."

"You—alright." Dean shrugged.

"Not from you, sweetie. From that big one." The Yorkie laughed and looked at Sam. "Over there. Hi!"

~/~\~

Sam held the Yorkie and rubbed its belly.

"Ohh, a—a cowboy hat, leather pants." The Yorkie recalled. "The dude's a total closet case."

Dean sighed. "Okay, what else can you tell me about the guy other than his outfit?"

"Um, he was carrying a burlap sack for the cats."

"What does he want with the cats?" Dean questioned.

"Ooh, attaboy, yes." The Yorkie moaned. "Hell if I know. But he took all of them, except for the one he ate."

"Ew." Dean cringed.

"What?" Sam and Angela asked.

"Apparently, our guy has a sweet tooth for kitty cats," Dean muttered.

"Huh," Sam muttered.

"Oh. Oh, and the sack had something written on it."

Sam stopped rubbing and shook out his hand.

"Okay, what did it say?" Dean asked.

The Yorkie just whined in response. Dean rolled his eyes.

"Hey, come on. We had a deal."

"Well, you tell that to the tall drink." The Yorkie replied. "He's the one who stopped rubbing!"

"Sam." Dean sighed.

"Hand cramps." He complained.

"He's not talking." Dean shrugged.

Sam rolled his eyes and continued rubbing the Yorkie's belly.

"Attaboy." The Yorkie moaned happily. "It said 'Avant-Garde Cuisine.' Lucky for you, I read French."

"That's a café on Main Street. No dogs allowed." The Colonel noted.

"Well, no wonder he smelled like hamburgers and dish soap," Dean muttered. "We got to go downtown. Apparently, our guy works at a restaurant."

Dean motioned for Sam to put the Yorkie back in its kennel.

"Whoa-oh, yeah. No, no, wait, wait, wait." The Yorkie pleaded. "Sure you don't want to adopt me?"

"No, thanks. Uh, we'll pass." Dean replied, closing the kennel door.

"No, I'm not above licking feet. Hey, big'un! Come back here!"

"Alright." Dean reached down for the Colonel's leash. "Hey, hold up."

Angela's brows furrowed. "What's the matter?"

"Best belly rub I ever had." The Yorkie muttered.

Dean opened a kennel door and one of the dogs hurried out.

"Freedom!"

Dean opened another kennel door and another dog left.

"I left a surprise in there for animal control."

"I didn't peg you for a softy." The Colonel noted.

"Going home. I'm going home. Honey, I'm coming home." Another dog said. "I'm coming home."

"I'm going home!"

"Bacon! Bacon! Bacon! Bacon!"

~/~\~

The Impala pulled up outside the back door of the restaurant, and the three hunters got out. Sam picked the lock on the door and they walked inside.

"Honestly, who can afford to be closed on a Monday these days?" Dean looked around.

"A homicidal maniac?" Angela suggested.

"Yeah." Dean nodded.

"Hey." Sam opened a door and shined a flashlight around the dark room and on a photo. "Check this out. Chef Leo. Think he's our guy?"

"It's Okie town. Lots of dudes wear cowboy hats." Dean replied.

The three hunters walked past shelves of ingredients. Sam opened a drawer to find a bunch of pill bottles.

"Whoa," Sam muttered. "Oxycodone, tramadol, methadone."

"Hmm." Angela hummed. "Guess he likes to cook comfortably numb."

"Yeah, apparently," Sam replied.

"Help us." A high-pitched voice pleaded.

"Please, mister."

"Over here!"

"Did you hear that?" Dean frowned. "Sounded like little kids."

"Help." One of the voices pleaded. "If you don't free us, the chef will eat us."

"She's not lying."

"We're in a cage!"

Dean lifted the cover off a cage to reveal four mice. "Eat you?"

"Look in the refrigerator behind you." One of the mice said.

"Yeah, behind you."

"In the fridge."

Sam opened a book as Dean looked in the refrigerator, which held various containers of organs.

"Hey. Owl brains. Cheetah liver. Grizzly heart." Dean noted.

"I found a spellbook. Shamanism." Sam replied.

"What's a chef doing dabbling with witchcraft?" Angela's brows furrowed.

"It says here whatever animal organ you ingest with the right mix of hoodoo and spices, you temporarily gain the power of that animal," Sam explained. "So, okay, if you're munching on owl brains…"

"Your head spins around like _'The Exorcist'?"_ Dean asked.

"Close," Sam replied. "Bolsters your IQ. Okay, eat a cheetah liver for speed, bear heart for strength."

"Okay, so if he's chowing down on this stuff—

"Then it would make sense why he constricted the taxidermist and clawed the guy at the shelter," Angela commented.

"Well, no offense, but why would he want to eat you guys?" Dean asked the mice.

"Uh, we have collapsible spines." One of the mice replied.

"We do."

"Promise."

"Look at this," Sam muttered.

"Hmm."

"Lion liver plus eagle heart. Rattlesnake fangs plus anaconda bladder. Baboon brains plus black widow abdomen." Sam read off recipes.

"He's mixing ingredients," Angela muttered.

"What the hell for?" Dean questioned.

Before Sam or Angela could answer, they heard a noise from another room.

"Shoo! Quiet!" one of the mice said.

"Don't shush me!"

"You be quiet!"

"I'm as quiet as a mouse." One of the mice laughed.

Dean, Sam, and Angela stepped out into the hallway with their guns drawn. They walked around several corners to the kitchen where a chef was grinding ingredients in a bowl. They hid their guns behind their backs.

"Who the hell are you?" the chef demanded.

"We're from the health department." Angela lied. "Stopped by for an inspection."

The chef narrowed his eyes. "I wasn't aware we had one scheduled."

"Yeah, no, you wouldn't be," Dean replied. "That's the point. Besides, I thought you were closed."

"We are. Chef's having a private dinner." The chef explained as a waiter came out with a platter. "In fact, he'll be here any minute."

"Oh." Dean nodded. "Well, then. In that case, kitchen's shut down."

The chef's eyes widened. "Shut down? Why?"

"Because, uh, y-you're both in clear violation of penal code 8.14," Sam explained.

"Out. Come on. Get out." Angela commanded. "Both of you. We'll let you know."

Both the chef and the waiter rushed out of the kitchen.

"Alright," Dean sighed. "I'll take the front. You two take the back."

"Do we even know how to kill this guy?" Sam questioned.

Dean looked down at his gun. "Well, empty one of these in his head. See what that does."

~/~\~

Dean went into the dining area. Sam and Angela heard a noise from the back and went to go investigate. Suddenly, Chef Leo materialized from the curtains behind Sam and Angela. The couple spun around, but Chef Leo slashed Sam across the throat. Sam reeled backward with a hand to his throat.

"Aah!"

"Sammy!" Angela yelled concernedly.

Chef Leo grabbed Angela, who struggled in his hold. He banged her head against the wall and she slumped down, unconscious.

"Chameleons aren't that bad," Leo smirked. "Kind of taste like chicken."

Sam turned away, gasping and shaking. His eyes briefly flashed blue, Ezekiel taking over. Ezekiel held two fingers to Sam's throat and the wounds healed immediately. His eyes blazed blue again, Sam taking over. He gasped for breath, clasping a hand to his throat. He frowned when he noticed the wound was completely healed.

"How the hell did you do that?" Leo demanded.

Sam turned to face him, casting a concerned glance at Angela. "D-do what?"

"Don't play coy." Leo snarled. "I want to know what you are. Oh, screw the sharktopus." He muttered, hitting Sam, causing him to fall unconscious to the floor. "You're my main course."

~/~\~

Sam and Angela lied unconscious on the floor as Leo sharpened a knife. Dean quietly came around the corner holding his gun.

Leo wrinkled his nose in disgust. "Why does it smell like dog in here?" he muttered, turning around. His eyes narrowed when he spotted Dean. "The smell's coming from you."

Dean fired his gun, but Leo leaned out of the path of the bullet, which broke a jar on a shelf behind him. Leo threw a kitchen machete, which lodged into a pillar next to Dean. Leo grabbed and punched Dean, sending him to his knees. He picked up a cord and put it around Dean's neck.

"All dogs should be leashed." He snarled.

Leo tied Dean to the pillar with his hands behind his back. Dean spotted Sam and Angela on the floor.

"What did you do to them?" Dean demanded.

"They're fine," Leo assured. "They're just taking a little cat nap before dinner. I've never had human heart before. Heard it's a bit chewy. Good thing I'm not a fussy eater." He added before he returned to sharpening his knife.

"You're sick." Dean realized.

"Benn told that once or twice."

"No, no. Not in the head. I, uh—well, you are that, too, but I mean sick like cancer." Dean replied.

Leo pursed his lips. "Well, I guess dogs really can sniff it out. Stage IV carcinoma."

"Huh," Dean muttered. "So, that's why you're doing this. What happened? Draw the short straw, decided to break bad?"

"See, when I was diagnosed, I was way past treatment," Leo explained. "No one could save me. But then with the help of a Pawnee shaman and a zoo membership, I found a cure, albeit a temporary one. Cancer always came back."

"You start experimenting with different organs, huh?" Dean questioned. "Traded in the single-serving for a combo platter."

"Well, what can I say?" Leo shrugged. "Combination therapy works. I felt stronger, and the effects lasted longer."

"And if you smoke a few innocent people in the process, well, hell, at least you felt better."

"Well, I didn't mean to kill anyone—at first." Leo retorted. "But if people got in my way, they became collateral damage. Guess you eat enough predators, you start to become one. You are what you eat, right?"

"Do you really think the power you hold over other people's lives can make up for what you lack in your own?" Dean glared.

Leo clenched his jaw. "So, dog boy, what do I need to eat to take you down, huh?" he opened an ice chest.

"You don't want to do this."

"Oh, but I do want to do this," Leo assured as he pulled out a container. "See, I'm gonna kill you, work up a nice appetite, and then I'm gonna eat your brother. I mean, I don't know what the hell he is, but with healing powers like that, who cares? He could cure me. Then I'll just eat your little friend on principle."

Dean rubbed the cord against the back corner of the pillar, causing the cord to fray.

"Ah." Leo held up a container labeled _'wolf heart.'_ "Dog on sort-of dog."

Dean continued trying to break the cord while Leo took out the wolf's heart and held it in his hands.

"Rahuraar, sakuriisat iisat a ti'pah kaawakit. 'A tarahkista'u… a raah." Leo chanted.

Finally, Dean managed to break the cord as Leo took a bite from the wolf heart. Dean removed the machete from the pillar and slashed at Leo, who knocked the machete to the floor and sent Dean backward. Leo's teeth descended into fangs. Dean ran and Leo chased after him with a yell.

~/~\~

Dean burst out the exit door, Leo following behind.

"Sorry. Wolf trumps dog."

"Maybe." Dean nodded. "But not a whole pack."

Dean whistled and the dogs from the shelter came running, led by the Colonel. Leo tried unsuccessfully to open the restaurant door and get through a fence before the dogs attacked him. He screamed and Dean watched with a grimace.

~/~\~

Angela started to stir and sat up once she was fully awake. She turned and saw Sam, who was still unconscious.

"Oh, God," she knelt next to him. "Sammy!"

Dean ran back into the kitchen and hurried over to Sam and Angela. Dean held Sam's face in his hands and slapped him lightly.

"Hey. For the love of God, Sammy." He begged. "Hey, Sammy. Zeke."

"Sammy, please. Come on, baby." Angela shook him.

"Come on. Don't make me lick your damn face." Dean threatened. "Hey."

Sam blinked a few times before fully waking up. Dean bowed his head in relief and Angela leaned down and kissed Sam deeply. Sam held Angela's face in his hands, running his thumbs across her cheeks. Dean cleared his throat.

"Come on." He instructed the couple.

~/~\~

Olivia crouched in front of the Colonel, patting him.

"When you called us about adopting him, we couldn't believe it." Dylan gushed.

"Aren't you the sweetest?" Olivia cooed.

"Ugh." The Colonel groaned. "Back off, tofu-breath."

"Oh, you must be starving," Olivia noted. "Lucky for you, I baked some vegan cupcakes!"

Olivia stood up and went to get the cupcakes with Dylan.

"Agh! I'm gonna be pooping wheatgrass with these two." The Colonel complained.

Dean crouched down in front of him. "Look, I know they're hippie freaks, but they're gonna give you a good home—one that you deserve."

"Yeah, yeah."

Dean sighed sadly. "Wish we could take you on the road with us, but it's no life for a dog."

"Don't sweat it." The Colonel replied. "I get carsick anyway. I was afraid to tell you earlier, but I barfed in your back seat."

"You…"

"What?"

"I'm gonna miss you, buddy," Dean admitted.

The Colonel held out a paw, which Dean shook. "I'll miss you, too. And by the way, as an honorary dog, there's something you should know. Dogs aren't really man's best friend."

Dean's brows furrowed. "What are you talking about?"

"I know it sounds like a conspiracy theory, but the real reason we were put here was to…" the Colonel trailed off before barking.

"Put here to do what?" Dean pressed.

The Colonel just continued barking.

"Oh, you got to be kidding me! Oh, now the spell wears off?!" Dean complained. He rubbed a hand over his face and patted the Colonel. "Okay."

~/~\~

Sam and Angela were waiting by the Impala. Angela was inspecting Sam, making sure that he was okay.

"How'd it go?" Sam asked.

"Well, bad news is I'm gonna miss the fleabag." Dean sighed. "Good news is it looks like the spell is finally wearing off. You guys okay? The Stetson man got you pretty good."

"Yeah, we're good," Sam assured. "I-I just, uh… I can't stop thinking about what he said."

"Sammy, the guy was nuts." Angela shrugged.

"Yeah, but, I mean, why—why would he ask me that?" Sam sighed. "Why—why did he want to know what I was?"

"Who the hell knows?" Dean shrugged. "He was all jacked up on juice, you know? He was possessed by—by something he couldn't control. It was…" he paused. "It was a—a matter of time before it completely took over. You can't reason with crazy, right?"

"I don't know." Sam shook his head.

"Trust me, baby. You got nothing to worry about." Angela kissed his cheek. "Now let's get home and see our girl."


	11. Heaven Can't Wait Part 1

_Lebanon, Kansas_

"That's your 'big news', it's that you, that you translated the tablet into… _doodles?"_ Sam asked as he bottle-fed Grace.

"It's cuneiform," Kevin replied, earning confused looks from Sam, Dean, and Angela. "I-I hit a wall translating the tablet into English. But I found an ancient codex, uh, linking the Angel script to proto-Elamite cuneiform, and I was able to translate the tablet and the footnotes into Elamite, which is…"

"Doodles." Dean finished.

"It's extinct."

"Well, can you read it?" Angela asked.

"No one can." Kevin sighed heavily. "Scholars have tried for centuries."

"So, it's a dead-end?" Dean slapped the papers down on the table.

"N-not quite," Kevin replied. "Now, most proto-Elamite is abstract, but I was able to decipher one phrase from Metatron's footnotes. 'Falling angels.'"

"Okay, so, the footnotes refer to Metatron's spell?" Sam raised a brow as he set the bottle down on the table.

"Maybe."

"Okay," Angela walked over to one of the bookshelves. "Well, maybe if we can decipher the footnotes, then we can reverse the spell and…"

"Punt those winged dicks back to Heaven." Dean slapped the table, ready for action. "Where do we start?"

"Research," Sam replied as Angela put a stack of books on the table.

"Ah!" Grace cooed as she clapped her hands.

"That's right, Gracie." Sam smiled. "We comb through the library, see if we can find anything else on Elamite."

Dean looked less than thrilled as he read the title of one of the books. "Zimmerman's Encyclopedia of Extinct Languages… Volume One: Adai to Atakapa. How many volumes are there?"

"24," Kevin replied. "Don't worry, we've found them all."

"Awesome," Dean muttered sarcastically.

Suddenly, Angela's phone started ringing. Her brows furrowed as she answered it.

"Hello?"

 _"I may have a case for you."_ Castiel's voice rang through. _"Four missing in Rexburg, Idaho. Presumed dead, but no bodies have been released to loved ones. And, there were reports of a strange substance at the scenes."_

"Oh, well, hello to you too, Cas," Angela replied. "How are you?"

_"I… am busy."_

"Alright," she sighed. "So, how do you want to do this? You want to meet up at the latest scene? You want me to pick you up? What?"

 _"Um… I've got my hands full over here,"_ Castiel replied. _"I just—um…"_

"Cas? Hello?" Angela's brows furrowed.

_"Thought you would want to know about the case."_

"Hey, you sure everything's…" she trailed off when she heard the phone click. "Okay."

~/~\~

"So, he said nothing about where he is or—or what he's been doing?" Sam questioned as Grace tugged at Sam's hair.

"This is Cas." Angela shrugged. "He's not exactly Chatty Cathy, babe."

"And you're not even gonna see him when you're in Idaho?" Sam raised a brow. "Also, why is Dean going?"

"Cas said he wants to keep his distance." Angela shrugged. "And I told Dean that I could handle it. But he insisted."

"Baby, what's the point of this?" Sam sighed. "I mean, it's _barely_ even a case."

"Well, then we'll have a look-see, and if there's nothing there, we'll come right back home," Angela assured.

Sam sighed and adjusted Grace in his arms. "I can come with you guys…"

"Sammy, we got this, I promise." She assured with a soft smile.

"Dean just wants to bail on research," Kevin muttered.

"Probably." Angela agreed. "Look, Sammy, I'll call you if anything goes wrong."

Sam sighed, knowing that he wasn't gonna win this one. "Fine. Just keep me updated. And be safe, Angie."

"I'm always safe," Angela replied.

"One time you jumped into a ridiculously deep pool…" Sam countered. "You almost drowned."

"That was years ago! I barely even remember it." She countered. "I love you, Sammy."

Sam smiled softly and leaned down to kiss her softly. "I love you, too."

Angela smiled and pecked Grace's cheek. "Love you, baby girl. Be good for daddy."

Grace just clapped her hands and giggled. Angela gave Sam one last kiss before walking off to meet Dean at the Impala.

~/~\~

_Rexburg, Idaho_

Dean and Angela stood outside of the victim's cabin dressed in their FBI apparel.

"So, uh, four missing?" Angela questioned.

"Four dead." The Sheriff corrected. "Just got confirmation."

Dean and Angela ducked under the yellow tape, followed by the Sheriff.

"And, uh, any common threads you can think of?" Dean asked.

"Well, Joe in there had the suicide hotline on speed dial," the Sheriff started. "The gal before him was a shut-in. Had enough anti-depressants in her medicine cabinet to stock a pharmacy. The first victims—a married couple out of Sugar City. Pretty much a walking billboard for a no-fault divorce."

"Were they all basket cases?" Dean raised his brows.

"If you asked me to make a list of the county's saddest sacks, these four would've been right on top." The Sheriff replied.

Angela pursed her lips. "Alright, so, four unhappy people, one of them definitely suicidal. But you've ruled out suicide?"

The Sheriff handed blue gloves to Dean and Angela. "You guys are gonna want to put these on."

~/~\~

Dean, Angela, and the Sheriff walked into the cabin, which was completely covered in a pink substance. Dean grimaced as he looked around.

"This look like suicide to you?" the Sheriff raised a brow.

"Blood?" Dean asked.

"If the tests come back same as the others… it's _everything._ Blood, skin, hair, nails. Internal organs. Even clothing fibers. Like these poor souls got run through the world's finest wood-chipper."

"What about witnesses?" Angela questioned.

"Same as the rest." The Sheriff sighed. "Neighbors reported some kind of pink flash. By the time we got here, all that was left was… this."

~/~\~

Angela was on the phone as Dean pumped gas into the Impala.

 _"Yeah, we're almost through the texts over here."_ Sam sighed. _"We got nothing."_

"Have you tried Professor Morrison?" Angela asked.

 _"Yeah, he's unreachable,"_ Sam replied. _"He took a sabbatical to live amongst the Tobrianders of Papua New Guinea. Needless to say, we're pretty burnt."_

Angela pursed her lips. "Well, there's one guy there who is nothing if not well-rested."

_"Crowley?"_

"It's worth a shot, right?" Angela replied.

 _"I guess."_ Sam sighed heavily.

"Just be careful, okay, babe? Don't fall for any of his 'quid pro quo' crap." Angela replied softly.

 _"Noted,"_ Sam replied. _"So, what about you and Dean? How's Cas's lead panning out?"_

"Four victims suddenly exploded. We tried EMF. We've looked for hex bags, sulfur—nothing." Angela explained.

 _"Spontaneous combustion? Maybe the Thule?"_ Sam suggested.

"No, no, no. Already ruled them out." Angela replied. "The bodies were vaporized. They weren't burned."

 _"That sounds like a real case,"_ Sam replied concernedly. _"Baby, I should be there."_

"Sammy, I promise, we got this one covered," Angela assured. "How's Gracie doing?"

 _"She's good. Right now, she's playing on her activity mat."_ Sam explained.

Angela smiled softly. "Tell her I love her, okay? I miss my girl."

 _"Will do,"_ Sam replied. _"I love you, Angie."_

"I love you too, Sammy," Angela replied with a small smile. "I'll call you later, okay?"

 _"Be safe, baby,"_ Sam replied before hanging up.

~/~\~

"Good day, ma'am." Castiel handed the woman her lottery ticket. "And good luck!" he added with an emphatic thumbs-up.

The woman looked puzzled and gave him a thumbs-up in return before she left. Dean and Angela walked up to the counter.

"I'll have some beef jerky and a pack of menthols." Dean grinned.

Castiel's eyes widened. "What are you doing here?"

"Gee, it's nice to see you, too, Cas." Angela retorted.

"It's… _Steve,_ now." Castiel gestured towards his name tag. "And… uh, you know you surprised me."

"Well, the feeling is mutual," Dean muttered. "I mean, we knew you had to lay low from the angel threat, but, uh, wow. This is some cover."

"My grace is gone," Castiel stressed. "What did you expect? Do you have any idea how hard it was? When I fell to Earth, I didn't just lose my powers. I—I had nothing. Now… I'm a sales associate."

"A sales associate?" Dean raised his brows.

The delivery guy walked in and handed Castiel a clipboard. "Hey, Steve. Sign here?"

Castiel took the clipboard and signed it as he continued speaking. "I'm responsible for inventory, sales, customer service. I keep this place," he handed the clipboard back to the delivery guy. "Thank you. Clean and presentable. And when my manager's busy, I even prepare the food."

"Wow." Dean nodded. "So, you went from fighting… heavenly battles to nuking taquitos?"

"Nachos too," Castiel replied proudly.

~/~\~

Sam sat on the edge of Crowley's table. Crowley held one of the papers with the 'doodles' of the cuneiform.

"I've been politely asking for reading material for weeks, and this is what you bring me?" Crowley set the paper down and pushed it back towards Sam. "Pass."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Can you read Elamite or not?"

"It's by no means my favorite of the ancient tongues, but yes."

Sam sighed, clearly annoyed. "Will you help us read it?"

"Why on earth would I?" Crowley scoffed.

"Because I was there that night. I saw what humanity did to you." Sam reminded. "Like it or not, there's still a little part of you that's not a douche."

"Sorry, Moose," Crowley smirked. "To the last drop."

Sam got off the table and leaned over it towards Crowley. "Crowley, the only reason you're alive is because my wife and brother thought you would be useful. So far you've done jack." He glared. He sighed and shook his head. "Back to plan 'B,' I guess."

"Which is?" Crowley prodded.

"Give you up to Abaddon." Sam shrugged as he took the paper and started walking away.

"You think you can threaten me with that hack?!" Crowley snapped.

Sam paused, then turned to face Crowley.

"She's all fury, no _finesse."_ Crowley continued.

"I'm not so sure," Sam admitted. "Our last encounter with Abaddon, she was, uh—she was pretty terrifying. Scarier than you've been in years."

"Bring that to me," Crowley demanded.

Sam walked back toward Crowley with the paper and handed it to him. Crowley wadded it up and threw it in Sam's face, temper-tantrum style. Sam looked pissed. He walked out of the room, shutting the door behind him.

~/~\~

Castiel carried a box of small jars, Dean and Angela following behind him.

"This is not you, man." Dean groaned. "You are above this. Come on."

"No, Dean." Castiel put the box on the counter. "I'm not. I failed at being an angel. Everything I ever attempted came out wrong. But here… at least I have a shot at getting things right. I guess you can't see it, but… there's a real dignity in what I do—human dignity."

"Hate to interrupt you guys," Nora cut in. "But, Steve? A customer had an accident in the men's room."

"I'm on it." Castiel nodded.

"Oh, and tonight—7:00 at my place work for you?" Nora smiled.

"Great." Castiel smiled back.

"You're the best!" Nora replied before walking off.

"That's what this is about." Dean chuckled.

"What?" Castiel's brows furrowed.

"The girl." Angela nudged Castiel.

"No," Castiel shook his head. "It's not. Nora—she's a very nice woman, I'm pretty sure she's not a reaper intent on killing me… and she's asked me out. Going on dates—that's something humans do, right?"

"Yeah." Dean nodded. "I mean, my dates usually end when I run out of singles…"

Angela gently smacked Dean's shoulder before looking back at Castiel. "Yes, Cas. That's something humans do. We're happy for you."

Suddenly, Dean's phone started ringing and he walked about a foot away.

"This is Agent Lee Ermey," Dean answered. "We'll be right there." He assured before hanging up. "There was another kill, over at the high school. You comin'?"

"I wouldn't be much use." Castiel sighed. "I don't have my powers."

"So?" Dean shrugged. "Angie and I have never had powers."

"You're hunters," Castiel argued.

"And you're a hunter in training, remember?" Dean reminded.

Castiel pursed his lips. "Yeah, I remember. You said I sucked."

Angela shot Dean a look, and he sighed heavily.

"I didn't say that. I said that there was, uh, you know, 'room for improvement.'" Dean corrected. "Come on."

"Alright," Castiel sighed. "My shift's over in five minutes, and my date's not until later, so…"

"Attaboy!" Dean grinned. "Angie and I will go get the car."

"Not just yet. I have to clean the bathroom?" Castiel pointedly reminded Dean.

~/~\~

Dean and Angela, in their normal clothes, walked up and flashed their badges to a cop. Castiel, still in his work clothes accompanied them. Dean and Angela noticed a cop talking to a young girl and headed that way while Castiel looked at the scene in horror and recognition.

"One second, we're talking, and the next, she just… stops," Jace recalled. "And then everyone in the cafeteria freaks, rushing, and pointing out the window, at…" she broke into sobs. "C-could that really be her?"

"And nobody saw anybody else at the scene—a man, a woman… anything unusual?" Angela asked gently.

Jace just shook her head.

"Your friend, was she, uh, depressed?" Dean questioned.

"Depressed?"

"Any thoughts of suicide?" Angela asked.

Jace's brows furrowed. "Ew. No. I mean, she was kind of bummed that dick-bag Travis broke up with her in front of the whole school."

"Kind of bummed?" Dean raised his brows.

"Yeah. Like more bummed than when she got a 'C' on a quiz, and… less bummed than when her parents split up." Jace explained obviously. "Kind of… bummed."

"Right." Angela nodded. "Excuse us."

The two hunters walked towards the Impala, where Castiel was leaning.

Angela's brows furrowed in concern. "Cas, what's wrong?"

"I've seen this before," Castiel replied grimly.

"What? Where?" Dean questioned.

"In Heaven."

"What, you're saying an angel did this?" Angela frowned deeply.

"It's no ordinary angel," Castiel muttered. "This is bad. This is very bad."


	12. Heaven Can't Wait Part 2

Castiel, Angela, and Dean sat in the Impala.

"On the battlefields of Heaven," Castiel started. "There was a special class of angel, the Rit Zien. It's, uh, Enochian for 'Hands of Mercy.' They functioned like medics. They tended to the wounded. They healed those who could be healed, but for the mortally wounded, those who were past saving, the Rit Zien's job was to put them down."

"But the granulated bodies?" Dean asked.

"This was their special ability," Castiel explained. "They had this way of smiting that was so _quick_ and so _total_ that it rendered death virtually painless."

"Yeah, but these aren't wounded angels that they're vaporizing, they're people," Angela noted.

"Right." Castiel sighed heavily. "I don't know. The Rit Zien home in on pain, it's like a beacon to them. So, when this angel fell to Earth, he heard the victims' cries, and their anguish, same as he'd hear an angel's in Heaven. He's continuing his heavenly work down here. One suffering human at a time."

"Yeah, but this last victim was not suffering." Dean reminded. "She was just a normal, moody kid."

"But he just got here." Castiel countered. "The ebb and flow of human emotion… I've been on Earth for a few _years,_ and I've only _begun_ to grasp it. To him, pain is pain."

Angela's brows furrowed. "So, everybody's fair game?"

Castiel just nodded in response.

Dean sighed heavily. "Alright, well, we got to stop him."

Castiel glanced at the hunters. "You two have to stop him."

Angela stared at Castiel, realization hitting her. "You're scared."

"It's different now, Angela." Castiel murmured. "Everything feels different."

"You're right." Dean nodded. "Alright, Angie and I will track down this, uh, Kevorkian wannabe, and we'll put him down."

"Okay." Castiel sighed.

"You stay safe, Cas," Angela replied gently. "Go on that date, okay? Go live a normal life."

Castiel smiled a soft smile. "Okay."

Dean started the car. He looked over at Castiel, who hadn't moved. "Well?"

Castiel shifted slightly. "I need a ride."

Dean nodded and smiled. "Right."

~/~\~

Sam walked into the dungeon carrying Grace, who was babbling at him.

"I'll do it," Crowley started. "But I want something in return."

Sam scoffed. "Yeah, what's that?"

"A telephone call."

Sam scoffed again and shook his head. He turned to walk out the door again.

"Come on, Moose!" Crowley called after him. "Even Dahmer got one telephone call."

~/~\~

Sam and Kevin stood in a room that was away from the dungeon and Crowley. Grace brought one of her tiny hands to her mouth.

"Seriously?" Kevin asked. "You want to let Crowley communicate with Abaddon? A king and a power-mad Knight of Hell isn't enough for you? You want to throw a demonic team-up into the mix?"

"I don't think so. I mean, I—I don't trust Crowley, either. But I can't honestly see him working with Abaddon." Sam replied. "He hates her too much."

"You said it. You can't trust him." Kevin reminded.

"We don't have to." Sam shrugged. "Look, Crowley's bound. We can end the call whenever we want. Even if he wanted to give Abaddon information, he has none to give her. He doesn't even know where the bunker is."

Kevin pursed his lips in thought. "He says he can decrypt the translation? What if he's lying."

"You're right." Sam agreed. "We're gonna need proof."

~/~\~

Sam shoved a piece of paper towards Crowley, holding Grace in his other arm. "What are those?"

"Ingredients." Crowley teased.

Sam rolled his eyes. "More specific."

Crowley shoved the paper back. "Ingredients… for a spell."

Sam sighed and shoved the paper back towards Crowley again.

"Heart of a Nephilim. Cupid's bow. Grace of an angel." Crowley sighed.

Kevin handed Crowley a second piece of paper with a variety of other symbols. "And the rest of them."

"Phone call." Crowley retorted. "You'll get the rest when I get paid. Now. Who's gonna be a dear and open up a vein?"

~/~\~

The Impala pulled up in front of a nice-looking single-family home.

"Okay." Dean nodded.

"Thanks," Castiel replied sincerely as he started to open the door.

"Cas, wait," Angela stopped him.

Castiel's brows furrowed in confusion. "What?"

"Lose the vest." She instructed.

Castiel looked even more confused. "What are you—

"Just listen to me, okay?" Angela interrupted. "Lose the vest."

Castiel sighed and took off the vest, handing it to Angela, who tossed it into the back seat.

"That's a little better." Dean agreed.

"Here," Angela undid a few of Castiel's buttons on his shirt. "There. Dean, what d'you think?"

Dean looked at Castiel and nodded. "Yeah. Good. Alright. Listen to me. Always open the door for her, okay?" he stressed. "Ask a lot of questions. They like that. And, uh… Oh, if she says she's happy to go Dutch… she's lying. Alright?"

Castiel nodded in understanding. Angela smiled up at the ex-angel.

"Good luck, Cas." She smiled. "And be safe, okay?"

Castiel got out of the car, and started walking to the front gate. He turned around and looked nervously at the two hunters. Dean gave him a thumbs-up, which Castiel returned geekily before he opened the gate. He sighed nervously and walked to the front door, stopping to pick a rose from the garden.

"Nice touch," Dean smirked.

"They grow up so fast." Angela smiled softly.

Castiel partly turned back towards Dean and Angela, and waved, signaling for them to leave. Dean waved back, then quickly realized that Castiel wanted them to leave. Dean nodded and started the car. However, as he was about to pull out, he looked in frustration at a light brown pick-up truck that was backing up toward him.

"What are you doing, jackass?" Dean muttered before leaning out the window. "Hey!"

Dean waved to let the truck know that he was there. The truck pulled forward a little, and Dean pulled out of his parking spot, driving off.

~/~\~

Kevin held Grace as Sam unrolled a medical kit with five syringes. Sam pulled out one of the syringes and prepared to inject himself.

"A, bup-bup-bup." Crowley stopped him.

Sam sighed, annoyed. "What?"

"Not yours. His." Crowley nodded towards Kevin.

"What difference does it make?" Sam huffed.

"I've had yours," Crowley replied. "Stuck in here, you can't fault me for wanting a little variety."

"No way!" Kevin snapped.

"What's wrong, Short Round? Afraid of needles?" Crowley taunted.

"No, I just have a policy of not giving blood to anyone who's murdered my mother." Kevin glared.

"I… have nothing… but time," Crowley smirked.

"You're a dick." Sam scoffed as he started packing up the kit.

"Good luck with that translation." Crowley shrugged.

Kevin, frustrated, handed Grace to Sam, and grabbed the kit and a syringe. With Crowley watching, he stuck the needle deep in his left elbow, and started drawing blood. Once he was finished, he squirted the blood into a metal dish.

"Inferni spectators, nunc audite noises." Crowley chanted.

The blood started swirling and making mysterious noises.

"This is Crowley," the demon started. "Connect me to… Crowley!" he repeated, annoyed.

Sam's brows furrowed in confusion.

"Bad connection," Crowley muttered. "Crowley. Your king. If you don't connect me to Abaddon right away, I will be forced to…" he paused.

"What? What happened?" Sam demanded.

"I've been placed on hold," Crowley grumbled.

~/~\~

Dean's cell phone started to blare as he drove. Frowning slightly, he picked it up and put it on speaker.

"Sheriff?"

 _"Now, here's a wrinkle,"_ the Sheriff started. _"Our first crime scene, married couple? Full analysis of the spray came in from the lab. Turns out it only contains the wife's DNA."_

Angela's brows furrowed. "The husband's still out there."

~/~\~

The Sheriff, Angela, and Dean were looking over various papers.

"He was already a bit screwy," the Sheriff started. "But then he found religion. She was a hardline atheist, no peach herself, when he got himself obsessed with this Buddy Boyle whack job, an already bad marriage got worse. Kept telling her to 'Let God in.'"

"Buddy Boyle. That explains it." Dean muttered.

"Explains what?"

"Never mind. Let's see." Dean sighed, looking at the photos.

"Is that his truck?" Angela frowned, recognizing it from Nora's house.

"Yep."

Angela looked up at Dean in concern. "Cas."

~/~\~

Grace clapped her hands together from her place in Sam's arms. Sam narrowed his eyes at Crowley.

"How long's it take to transfer a demonic phone call?"

"Can it, Moose." Crowley sassed.

"Crowley, you got your call." Kevin glared.

"Yeah, it's time." Sam agreed.

"It's time when I bloody well say it's time!" Crowley snapped angrily.

Suddenly, the blood started boiling and there were demonic sounds.

"Hello, Abaddon." Crowley smiled.

 _"Crowley, how in the hell are you?"_ her voice rang through.

~/~\~

"And how are the numbers?" Crowley questioned.

 _"You mean souls?"_ she retorted. _"I've managed to double on your projections. Now, how did I ever pull off such a feat?"_

Crowley frowned deeply. "You're taking souls before their time. Voiding my contracts!"

 _"That's right."_ She purred. _"I'm taking it all down, brick by brick. It's over. The days of Crowley, the king of bureaucrats—are done."_

~/~\~

Dean and Angela managed to burst into Nora's house just before Ephraim could kill Castiel. Ephraim waved his hand, causing the two hunters to go flying across the room.

~/~\~

"You… ganky… putrescent… skanger!" Crowley sputtered in fury. "It may look like bean-counting to you, it may lack a certain adolescent flair, but my way… works!"

Sam lifted his eyebrows and glanced at Kevin.

"You think you can control Hell with chaos alone, without the support of those who are still loyal to me?!" Crowley continued.

 _"No one's seen you in weeks, and last I saw you, the Scooby Gang had you tied up nice and tight,"_ Abaddon replied. _"Seems to reason, they've turned you into a kennel dog. How does it feel, Crowley, to be the Winchesters' bitch? It's been fun indulging in your bluffs, but we both know you have no real authority left, no leverage. You have nothing to offer me. You have—nothing."_

Crowley clenched his jaw. "Your way will backfire. You. Will. Burn."

 _"I can't wait."_ Abaddon hissed.

Crowley pushed the bowl away once the call ended.

"Crowley?" Sam asked after a few moments.

"Bring me the translations." He demanded. "I keep my agreements."

Kevin moved quickly to get the papers, then handed them to Crowley.

"Obtain the ingredients—heart, bow, grace," Crowley read. "Blah, blah, blah. 'Mix until the smoke shall rise from the ashes casting the angels from Heaven.' Blah, blah—Oh. It's irreversible."

Sam's face fell. "What?"

"This spell can't be undone," Crowley replied. "The new world order—we're stuck with it."

~/~\~

"You say you want to live," Ephraim looked down at Castiel. "But you can't see what I see. By choosing a human life, you've already given up. You… chose… death." He raised a hand to Castiel's forehead.

Dean grunted softly as he slid the angel blade across the floor towards Castiel. He grabbed it and stabbed Ephraim, causing a white light to burst from the angel. Dean and Angela shielded their eyes from the blinding light.

~/~\~

Sam sat on the map table on the phone, having just put Grace to bed.

 _"Well, there's no way."_ Dean's voice rang through. _"Crowley's lying."_

"No, Dean, not this time." Sam sighed heavily. "Look, Metatron built the spell to withstand any attempt to reverse it. There is no putting the angels back in Heaven. It's done." He explained, pausing for a moment. "Are you guys gonna tell Cas?"

After a few moments of silence, Dean sighed.

 _"Got to go, Sam."_ He replied before hanging up.

~/~\~

Dean and Angela turned to face Castiel.

"Where to, Cas?" Angela questioned softly.

Castiel just looked at her and Dean, then got into the car silently.

~/~\~

Sam poured the bowl of blood into the sink. He frowned when he noticed that the syringe kit was missing a syringe. There had definitely been five, and now there were only four… Sam shut the kit and briskly walked out of the room.

Peering through the door into Crowley's den, Sam saw Crowley inject himself with the missing syringe. Sam frowned deeply, ducking back out of sight.

~/~\~

The Impala pulled up to the Gas'n'Sip, Dean cutting off the engine once they arrived.

"Listen, Cas…" Dean sighed. "Back at the bunker, I, uh… Sorry we told you to go."

"We know it's been hard on you. On your own." Angela added softly. "But, seeing what you've done… you're adapting. We're proud of you." She placed a friendly kiss on his cheek.

"Thank you," Castiel replied sincerely. "But there's something Ephraim said. The angels—they need help. Can I really sit this out? Shouldn't I be searching for a way to get them home?"

Dean pursed his lips. "We'll take care of the angels. You're human now. It's not your problem anymore."

Castiel got out of the car, looked through the window at the two hunters, and waved goodbye. Castiel walked to the Gas'n'Sip and unlocked the door as the Impala's engine roared to life.


	13. Bad Boys Part 1

_Lebanon, Kansas_

Sam wandered into the library, carrying Grace in one of his arms. Grace held a rattle in one of her tiny hands, shaking it slightly.

"Dean? Angie?" Sam called out as he looked around. "Kevin?"

When he got no response, Sam headed towards one of the bookshelves and pulled a book off the shelf— _The Marvelous Land of Oz_ by L. Frank Baum.

"You up for a bit of reading?" Sam asked his daughter as he sat down on one of the chairs.

Just as he opened the book, Sam heard a cell phone buzzing. He huffed, slightly annoyed as he set the book down. Sam got up and picked up the phone.

"Hello?" he answered, adjusting Grace in his arm.

Dean and Angela walked into the library, curious as to who Sam was talking to.

"I'm sorry," Sam frowned. "There's no, uh, there's no Dee-dawg, uh…"

"I got it, I got it." Dean grabbed the phone. "Sonny, hey. So, what's up? Okay." He pursed his lips. "Alright. Yeah, just sit tight. I'll be there as soon as I can. Yeah."

Dean hung up the phone, and Sam looked at his brother with his brows furrowed.

"So, what was that all about, 'Dee-dawg'?" he questioned, causing Angela to chuckle softly.

"You remember when we were kids that spring in upstate New York?" Dean asked. "Dad was on a rugaru hunt. We, uh—we crashed at the, uh… the bungalow colony with the ping-pong table?"

"Yeah." Sam nodded. "Uh, y-you disappeared. Dad came back. You were gone. He shipped me off to Bobby's for a couple months and went and… found you. You were lost on a hunt or something."

"That's what we told you." Dean nodded. "Right."

"I'm sorry?" Sam raised his brows. "That's what you _told_ me?"

"Truth is, uh…" Dean started. "I lost the food money that Dad left for us in a card game. I knew you'd get hungry, so… I tried taking the five-finger discount at the local market and got busted. I wasn't on a hunt. They sent me to a boys' home."

"A boys' home, like a… reform school?" Angela asked.

"Yeah, more or less." Dean shrugged. "It was a farm, and the guy who ran it—Sonny—he, uh, you know, he looked after me."

"Wait," Sam's brows furrowed. "Does Sonny know what we do?"

"Yeah. He's good people." Dean assured. "I gave him the number to the Bat Phone, and sounds like he's got something in our wheelhouse." He explained. "So… Hey—you gonna be cool to do this, or are you too tired? I mean, Angie and I can handle this."

"Uh, no. Yeah, I'm just, uh… I'll be fine." Sam assured.

"And everybody's okay with… heading out to the Catskills?" Dean asked, trying to reach Ezekiel.

Sam looked bemused. "Angie and I are everybody."

"Yeah. Right." Dean nodded. "Alright. Grab your stuff, and we'll head out."

"Hey, Dean… I mean, why didn't you just tell me you went to a boys' home?" Sam asked curiously.

"I don't know." He shrugged. "Uh, it was Dad's idea. And then it just—you know, the story became the story. I was 16."

~/~\~

_Hurleyville, New York_

The Impala pulled up in front of a sign that read _'SONNY'S HOME FOR BOYS.'_

"You were here for two months and Dad couldn't find you?" Sam asked as he took Grace out of her car seat.

"Oh, no. He found me. He found me quick." Dean replied. "But he left me here 'cause I lost our money."

Sam frowned as he adjusted Grace in his arms. "You were 16. You made a mistake."

"Yeah. I made the mistake." Dean stressed. "Look, I know how you think. None of this was Dad's fault."

Dean, Sam, and Angela walked to the front door and knocked. Angela adjusted the diaper bag on her shoulder as a middle-aged woman answered the door. She folded her arms and eyed the three hunters.

"Hi." Dean greeted.

"What can I do for you three?" Ruth questioned.

"I'm Dean. This is my brother, Sam, my sister-in-law, Angela, and my niece, Grace." Dean introduced. "We're old friends of Sonny's."

Ruth looked between Sam and Dean. "Prison buddies?"

Dean swallowed, taken aback. "No. Uh… you mind telling him that we're here?"

"I'll go get him," Ruth said after a pause. "I just mopped this floor, so you take off those roach stompers."

The three hunters toed their shoes off. Sam shot Dean a look.

"Sonny's an ex-con, huh?" he muttered.

"What, and we're such angels?" Dean scoffed. "Trust me, he's more than made up for it."

Sam, Dean, and Angela walked into the house. Dean looked at the couch in the living room, pursing his lips.

~/~\~

_Deputy Billy stood with his hands on his hips. A 16-year-old Dean sat on the couch, handcuffed. Sonny stood across from Dean, arms folded across his chest._

_"Steven Hewlett caught him red0handed stealing up at his store." Deputy Billy explained._

_"So, what'd he take?" Sonny questioned._

_"Get this—peanut butter and bread."_

_Sonny looked at Dean, almost as if he was assessing him. "Okay. And how about family?"_

_"Well, his old man called." Deputy Billy sighed. "Once he found out what happened, he said to let him rot in jail. Judge is off on a fishing trip. Boy's too young to leave in County. So, we thought it best he stay here till arraignment."_

_"I don't see why not, man." Sonny shrugged._

_Deputy Billy took off his sunglasses, revealing a bruise under his eye. "Appreciate it, Sonny."_

_"Where'd you get the shiner?" Sonny's brows furrowed._

_Dean just laughed, causing Deputy Billy to glare at him._

_"You think that's funny?"_

_"I think you're slow." Dean sassed._

_"You sucker punched me!" Deputy Billy snapped._

_"You wish!" Dean retorted._

_"Come on, now!" Sonny snapped, grabbing their attention. "Billy, I got this, buddy. It's alright."_

_Deputy Billy huffed as he left. Dean waved goodbye sarcastically._

_"You shouldn't do that, kid." Sonny reprimanded._

_"Yeah? Why? Because he's a cop?" Dean raised his brows._

_"Because when you make him mad, he leaves with the key." Sonny retorted._

_Dean's face visibly fell as he looked down at the cuffs. Sonny watched with a small smile on his face, then leaned down to pick up a paperclip from the coffee table._

_"Eh, don't sweat it." Sonny shrugged._

_Sitting in front of Dean, Sonny jimmied the cuffs open with the paperclip. Sonny frowned when he noticed that Dean's forearms were bruised and red._

_"Deputy do that?" he asked, earning a head shake from Dean. "What, your old man?" he frowned, earning another head shake. "Well, then, how'd you get it?"_

_"Werewolf." Dean shrugged._

_Sonny stared at Dean for a moment. "Okay."_

_"So, how do you know I won't just run away?" Dean asked._

_"Because you're hungry."_

_"No, I'm not." Dean retorted._

_Sonny raised his brows. "Well, then, why'd you steal bread and peanut butter?"_

_Dean shrugged. "So, what is this place, anyway?"_

_"It's for boys like you," Sonny replied. "You work the land. Teaches you some discipline and responsibility. Keep you out of trouble."_

_Dean laughed. "That's lame."_

_"Beats jail. Come on. I'll fix you something to eat."_

~/~\~

Dean smiled slightly at the memory. A much older-looking Sonny walked into the room, grinning at Dean.

"Dee-dawg!" he exclaimed.

"Sonny!" Dean smiled. "Good to see you."

"Hey, you too, brother." Sonny hugged Dean. "Oh, and this must be Sam."

"Good to meet you." Sam nodded.

"Back at you, brother," Sonny replied, turning to Angela.

"I'm Angela, Sam's wife." She introduced. "And this is our daughter, Gracie." She gestured to her daughter, who was playing with Sam's hair.

"Pleasure to meet you." Sonny gave her a friendly smile.

"So, the farm looks, uh, nice," Dean noted.

"Oh, please, man." Sonny shook his head. "It's _barely_ standing. Only got a handful of kids working around here now."

Dean's brows furrowed. "Why's that?"

Sonny sighed heavily. "Because these days, the system would rather incarcerate a boy than redeem him."

Ruth was wiping down a table nearby, staring at the group.

"Hey, Sonny," Sam muttered. "Uh, you—you mind if we talk alone?"

Sonny turned to Ruth. "Hey, Ruth, would you, uh, please go check on the boys, make sure their morning chores are getting done?"

"Alright," Dean sighed once Ruth left. "So, what's happening?"

"Well, you remember Jack, don't you?"

"Yeah." Dean nodded. "The, uh, tough, old leatherneck."

"Mm-hmm." Sonny hummed. "Well, somehow, that ancient, rusty, broken-down tractor just roared to life and ran him over the other night."

"Maybe—maybe it just, uh, slipped out of park or something," Angela suggested.

"Couldn't have." Sonny shook his head. "You know, I never—I never believed any of this mumbo-jumbo stuff you guys are into, but… something ain't right."

"What do you mean?" Angela asked curiously.

"Well, just… things started happening—you know, lights flickering on and off, strange scratching sounds coming from inside the walls, windows, and doors slamming."

"Alright." Dean sighed. "You think you can round up the boys while we take a look around?"

"Well, that shouldn't be a problem. Most are home on break—well, except those with no home worth going to."

"Mm." Dean hummed as Sonny left. "Alright," he looked at Sam and Angela. "Why don't you guys take the house? I'll check out the barn."

"Yeah." Sam nodded.

~/~\~

Sam and Angela walked into an empty bedroom. Angela was carrying Grace as they walked.

"Look," Sam muttered, grabbing Angela's attention.

On one of the bedposts, there were some occult symbols carved into them. Sam pulled off several of the taped name labels to reveal one that said, _'DEAN W.'_ Suddenly, they heard a sound from the adjoining room.

"Stay behind me," Sam instructed as he took out a knife.

The couple walked towards the room, noticing that Ruth was on her knees, praying. She rose suddenly, alarmed.

"Hey. I am so sorry." Sam apologized. "We… we thought we saw something in, uh—

"Like a ghost?" Ruth interrupted. "Sonny told me you were old friends, but… I know why you're really here. That's why I was praying for us."

"Praying for what?" Angela questioned.

Ruth smiled slightly. "For the ghost that haunts this farm to leave."

~/~\~

Dean opened and closed the barn door and whipped out his old EMF detector. "Alright, Casper… Where're you at?"

After a few moments, he pocketed the EMF reader. He frowned when he heard a noise, more specifically, a child's voice. He followed the noise and opened another door to a dim room.

"Hello?" Dean called out. "Anybody here?"

He whirled around to another sound. There was a scrawny little kid wearing glasses.

"Hey, kid," Dean frowned. "What are you doing in here by yourself?"

"Fighting monsters." The boy smiled.

"What kind of monsters?" Dean raised his brows.

"All sorts, with Bruce the monster smasher." The boy held up his action figure.

"Hm." Dean nodded. "Is that a cape? Little impractical for smashing monsters, huh? You know, you could choke—

"I clobber evil!" the action figure said after the boy pressed a button.

Dean chuckled slightly. "I bet you do. I'm Dean." He held out his hand.

Timmy." The boy replied, shaking Dean's hand weakly.

Dean's brows furrowed. "Let's try that again. If you're gonna be a man, you got to learn how to shake like one, okay? So, give me your best Kung Fu grip." He instructed as they shook hands again. "Now look me straight in the eye. Let me know that you mean business. Shake as hard as you can. That's it. You shake like that, you'll be alright." Dean smiled. "Hey, Timmy, did you know Jack who worked here?"

"Mm-hmm." Timmy nodded.

"What can you tell me about him?"

"He yelled a lot," Timmy replied. "He was yelling when he had his accident."

"How do you know that?" Dean asked gently.

"'Cause me and the other boys were playing here when it happened," Timmy explained.

"Did you see anything?" Dean asked, earning a head shake. "Is there anything else about that night that you can remember, anything at all?"

"It suddenly… got really cold," Timmy recalled. "Can I go? I have to finish my chores before Miss Ruth gets mad."

"That Ruth—she runs a tight ship, huh?" Dean muttered. "Yeah, you better roll."

~/~\~

"I grew up in this town," Ruth started. "I used to come up here as a little girl. The Wasserlaufs, Howard and Doreen—they used to own this farm back then. My co-worker, Jack, may he rest in peace, he worked here as a farmhand. Howard was a nice man, but… Well, he'd get into that corn liquor, and… one night he got it into his thick skull that Jack and his wife, Doreen, were rolling around in the hay." She explained. "It wasn't true, but—but Howard's paranoia got the better of him. He tried to kill them both. Jack got away, but Doreen…"

"He killed her?" Angela asked.

"With a meat cleaver," Ruth replied grimly. "Got life in jail. Which for Howard ended a year ago. He always swore he'd get his revenge on poor old Jack, and… looks like he finally got it."

"Is Howard buried here in town?" Sam questioned.

~/~\~

Sam and Dean were digging up the grave while Angela stood nearby, bottle-feeding Grace.

"So… Dad didn't want you to tell me." Sam commented. "How come? Was this place really so bad?"

"I don't really remember," Dean admitted. "I mean, look, nobody bad touched me. Nobody burned me with their smokes, or beat me with a metal hanger. I call that a win."

Sam laughed a little. Dean hit something hard with his shovel.

"Hey."

The brothers opened up the coffin to reveal a corpse. They poured salt over the body.

"Alright," Dean sighed. "Let's barbecue old MacDonald here, get the hell out of Dodge."

~/~\~

The Impala sped down the old country road, the sun shining brightly.

~/~\~

Dean, Sam, and Angela were sitting at a table in the little restaurant. Grace sat in a high chair next to Angela. Dean, with a sly smile on his face, watched the waitress, who stood at the counter, laughing with some other customers.

"That's okay." She laughed.

"Dean, you know we're fine just grabbing a burger-to-go somewhere, right?" Sam asked, breaking Dean from his thoughts.

"What, and miss out on the best banana pancakes you ever had?" Dean scoffed as he looked down at the menu.

~/~\~

_Dean and Sonny sat at the table in the restaurant._

_"Thanks," Dean commented._

_"No prob," Sonny replied. "I do this for all the boys after they've been here for a month."_

_"I meant for getting the charges against me dropped." Dean corrected._

_"Well, being hungry's not a crime." Sonny shrugged. "It's the stealing that it. But I feel if you only do that once, you don't deserve a record. And seeing as how we can't find your pops anywhere, you can stay here as long as you want, Dean. You're doing good in school. You're making friends. You made the wrestling team. I'm proud of you." He explained, pausing for a moment. "Let me ask you something, and I want you to be straight with me. Are you into the whole heavy-metal, devil-worshipping stuff?"_

_"What?" Dean asked incredulously. "No."_

_"Hey, I'm not—I'm not judging," Sonny assured. "It's just I found a few occult-looking symbols carved into your bedpost."_

_Dean sighed. "It's a very long story."_

_"That story have anything to do with why you put the salt in front of your bunk door every night before bed?"_

_"Well, it's a family thing, so I can't really talk about_ it, _" Dean muttered._

_"Same family that left you here?" Sonny raised a brow. "What," he laughed. "Are you—what are you, in the mob or something?"_

_"More like something," Dean replied vaguely._

_Sonny pursed his lips. "I was part of this gang, right? They were my family. I lived, breathed, I would have even died for them. "You know where it got me? 15 years in a correctional facility. And for what?" he shrugged. "Being loyal? To who? I should have been loyal to myself. Because you get one shot at this game, Dean, and when you look in the mirror, you want the guy looking back at you to be his own man."_

_Dean nodded silently. A waitress, Robin, walked over to their table._

_"Hey, guys." Robin smiled._

_"Hey, Robin." Sonny greeted the girl. "How are you?"_

_"I'm good. How are you?"_

_"Good." Sonny nodded. "Meet my new ranch foreman here, Dean."_

~/~\~

"Hi. Welcome to Cus's." Robin greeted, pulling Dean from his thoughts. "What can I get y'all?"

"Bet you never thought you'd see me here, huh?" Dean smiled insinuatingly.

Robin looked at Dean with a blankly friendly expression. "Uh, look, I'm a little bit slammed right now. Do you want to hear the specials?"

"Robin… Dean Winchester." He reminded.

"Um…"

"I used to live up at Sonny's," he added.

"Oh, oh." Robin nodded. "Uh, look, sorry. There's just—there's just so many boys that pass through there, it's—it's hard to remember every—every name and face."

"Yeah. Uh, no. Sorry." Dean apologized. "I just—I remember you coming up there with your mom. She'd give guitar lessons. It's, uh—it was a long time ago."

"Yeah. Mom—she loved helping out the boys." Robin smiled fondly. "I guess that's why I kept giving lessons after she passed."

"Hey, Robin?" Another woman called.

"Um, would you excuse me?" Robin said awkwardly. "I'll be right back."

"Dude…?" Sam started.

"Let's go." Dean got up quickly.

~/~\~

"Wh—what was that?" Angela asked as they walked towards the Impala.

"Nothing," Dean grumbled.

Sam adjusted Grace in his arms. "Nothing? Well, obviously it was something. Who was that waitress?"

"I said it was nothing, alright? Drop it." Dean snapped as his phone started ringing. "Sonny." He greeted. "What?!"

~/~\~

Dean, Sam, Angela, and Sonny stood near a police car. Sam held Grace, who was sucking on a teething ring.

"I tried to get in to save her, but the damn door wouldn't open," Sonny recalled.

"Locked?" Angela asked.

"There's no locks on the farm."

Dean sighed heavily. "That means our little field trip to the cemetery was a bust. Sonny, is there anything else weird you can remember?"

"What, 'cause we're not chest-deep in weird already?" Sonny scoffed.

"I know, I know. I mean anything—really." Dean replied.

"There was one thing," Sonny muttered. "Ruth always had her rosary beads with her, but now I can't find them anywhere."

"Alright," Sam nodded. "Um, let's start with the vics, okay? I mean, both lived in the house. They both, uh, worked closely with the boys."

"Alright, why don't I go have a chat with the rug rats, see what's up?" Dean suggested.

"Yeah." Angela nodded. "Sonny, you got any employee records on the victims?"

"In my office. Let's do it."

~/~\~

Dean walked around the house, following the sound of voices.

"Come on, watcha gonna do about it? You gonna cry?" One kid laughed.

"Timmy, you're such a little weirdo." The second kid added.

Dean immediately grabbed the first kid, and then the second kid. "Hey, hey, hey! Hey! What are you doing?"

"Nothing." One kid replied.

"Timmy, what's going on?" Dean demanded.

Timmy remained silent while one of the boys huffed in annoyance.

"Alright, you two," Dean faced the two older boys. "Where were you this morning when Ruth had her accident?"

"Unless you're a cop, we don't need to tell you anything."

"Oh, okay. Well…" Dean pulled out his FBI badge. "How about that?" he shoved the badge in their faces.

"We weren't even here this morning. Sonny sent us into town to get some chicken feed—we swear."

"What about Ruth?" Dean questioned. "What can you tell me about her?"

"Uh, we used to call her the warden. She was a real Bible-thumping hard-ass."

"Obviously," Dean muttered. "What else? Anything different or weird you can think of?"

"You mean besides Timmy?" both kids laughed.

"Hey!" Dean snapped. "Either of you touch him ever again, I'm gonna go all Guantanamo on you. Understand me? You get the hell out of here. Go on! Get!"

The two boys immediately scurried off. Dean turned back to face Timmy, who stepped forward to pick up his action figure.

"Hey. You and Bruce okay?" Dean asked gently.

"Yeah." Timmy nodded.

"Listen to me," Dean started. "Guys like that—they're cowards, okay? All you got to do is stand up to them one time and they'll stop, I promise."

Timmy looked down at the ground. "Okay."

~/~\~

Sam, Angela, and Sonny walked briskly through the house. Sam stopped, noticing something.

"Hey, Sonny, wait." He murmured. "Um… W-what is all this?"

"It's our hall of fame," Sonny replied. "We had some pretty great athletes come through here, including your brother. He was Sullivan county 135-pound wrestling champion."

Sam exhaled softly, staring at the certificate.


	14. Bad Boys Part 2

Dean walked into the office, where Sam and Angela sat, reading a file. Angela had Grace on her lap.

"Kid's gonna need about 8,000 stitches, but he'll be fine." Dean sighed.

"That kid was bullying Timmy before the accident, right?" Angela asked.

"Yeah. Why?" Dean's brows furrowed.

"Check this out." Sam handed Dean the file. "Timmy was found in an abandoned building about a year ago all by himself. No one was sure how long he had been there."

"And what about his parents?" Dean tossed the file back to Sam.

"Well, they posted a picture on the internet, but no one ever showed up," Angela explained.

"Well, then, what's he doing here? Shouldn't he be in an orphanage?"

"He kept running away from Child Services." Sam shrugged. "So, about three months ago, Sonny offered to take him in."

"Alright," Dean pursed his lips. "So, hard-ass counselors, bullies, all bite the dust, but Timmy's still standing. So, what are we talking? We got ourselves a Damien on our hands?"

"No. EMF rules out a demon," Angela muttered. "So… probably ghost possession."

"Meaning what, we find Timmy and shove a fistful of salt down his throat, forced ejection?" Dean sighed. "You're taking the barn this time."

~/~\~

Sam and Angela walked into the barn, looking around. Grace was in the baby carrier, which was strapped onto Angela. The couple walked up the ladder and pulled out their flashlights, noticing a child's drawing on the wall.

~/~\~

Dean walked around, hearing someone playing the guitar. He followed the noise and saw Robin on the couch.

~/~\~

_A 16-year-old Robin was playing the guitar. Dean sat beside her, smiling._

_"So, you've been a lot of places?" she asked._

_"Yeah." Dean nodded. "My, uh… My dad likes to move around a lot."_

_"What's your dad do?"_

_Dean paused for a moment. "Boring stuff."_

_"Do you like it?" Robin asked curiously._

_Dean shook his head. "No, not really. But my dad expects me to follow in his footsteps. So, I've kind of gotten used to it."_

_"Yeah. I—I get it." Robin murmured. "My pops wants me to take over the diner? But that's not happening. So, what do you really want to do? I want to be a photographer and see the world, go to strange lands, eat crazy food."_

_Dean took a deep breath. "I want to be a rock start, but… I also really like cars."_

_Robin smiled softly. "Being a mechanic seems rough."_

_"What?" Dean asked incredulously. "No, no. Not at all. Cars are freaking cool as hell. Fixing them is like… a puzzle, and the best part is when you're done, they leave, and you're not responsible for them anymore."_

_Robin leaned in to kiss him softly. Dean seemed slightly shocked._

_"Have you kiss many girls?" Robin asked curiously._

_"What?" Dean cleared his throat. "Yeah. Of course. Lots."_

_"Really?" she grabbed his collar. "Well, I guess we'll just have to keep practicing."_

~/~\~

Dean shook himself from the fond memory. Robin looked up, slightly startled.

"Oh. Hey." She greeted. "Uh, what happened to you at the diner? I turned around to take your order, and you were just… gone?"

"Long story." Dean shrugged it off. "Um, have you seen Timmy?"

"No, not yet, but he should be here any minute for his guitar lesson."

"Yeah, we're gonna cancel that," Dean replied.

Robin's brows furrowed. "What?"

"We got to get out of here, okay?" Dean stressed. "I don't have time to explain. You just got to trust me."

"T-trust you?" she scoffed. "And why would I do that again?"

"You _do_ remember me!"

"How could I ever forget?" Robin murmured.

~/~\~

_Dean and Robin were kissing on the porch swing. She gently put a hand to Dean's chest._

_"What's wrong?" Dean frowned._

_"I just hope this lasts." Robin murmured._

_"I'm not going anywhere, Robin." He assured._

_"Yeah, says you."_

_"Well, I can't," Dean replied. "Who else would take you to the school dance?"_

_Robin smiled up at Dean. "Is this your way of asking me to be your date, Dean Winchester?"_

_"Yeah." Dean nodded. "How am I doing so far?"_

~/~\~

"There were—there were reasons why I had to leave." Dean sighed sadly. "I don't have time to explain them to you right now. I got to get you out of here."

He walked over to the couch, grabbed her by the hand, and pulled her up and out of the room.

"Hey!" she exclaimed. "What are you doing?!"

"I'm sorry," Timmy said suddenly.

Dean whirled around. "Sorry about what, Timmy?"

"I can't stop it." He replied.

Suddenly, a vase shattered against the door, causing Robin and Dean to flinch.

"Go, go, go!" Dean yelled.

Dean grabbed Robin by the arm and pushed her to another room. Vases flew in the air, crashing against the walls. Dean grabbed a fireplace poker as a lamp flew over their heads.

Sam and Angela walked through an open door as another lamp flew. Angela shielded Grace, who was still in the baby carrier.

"Sam, Angie, go!" Dean yelled.

Sam whirled around but the door slammed shut before he could get to it.

"Locked." Dean huffed. "Dammit!"

Robin gasped. Dean ran to the kitchen cabinet and grabbed a box of salt, tossing it to Sam.

"Circle," Dean instructed.

Sam caught the box and started to open it.

"Dean, what—what just happened in there?" Robin questioned.

"Okay, listen to me," Dean started. "Whatever happens, you stay inside this circle. Understood?"

"Alright. Dean…" Sam started.

Dean whirled around to see Timmy standing in the doorway with his action figure.

"I can't control her." Timmy's voice wavered.

"Can't control who?" Dean asked.

"Your mom, right?" Angela stepped forward. "Timmy, listen, honey. We need you to tell us about the fire, okay?"

"It was late," Timmy murmured. "And we were driving home when we crashed in the woods. Everything was on fire. But she saved me, pushed me out… Before the car blew up… with her in it."

"But that's not all, was it?" Angela asked softly.

"I ran through the woods. I found an empty building, where I hid. I was scared. It was dark and cold. So, I cried. I cried for my mom. And then she came."

"But she'd changed, right?" Sam asked gently.

"I'll bet she gave you that cool action figure, huh?" Dean added.

"Yeah." Timmy nodded. "When I turned nine."

"Timmy…" Sam trailed off as a figure flickered in the kitchen. "I'm gonna need that action figure."

The spirit attacked Sam and Angela, throwing them against the wall. Grace started to wail from the baby carrier. Dean swung the iron poker through the figure and grabbed the action figure from Timmy. Dean put the action figure on the oven, turning the gas burner on.

"No!" Timmy cried.

Timmy watched in despair as Sam pulled him in the circle with Robin, who held him protectively. Sam held Angela protectively. Dean stood by the stove, watching the doll burn.

"I clobber evil… I clobber evil… I… clobber… evil!"

A wind blew through the window, disrupting the salt circle.

"It looks like it wasn't the action figure that was anchoring her here, Dean," Angela commented.

"Then what is it?!" Dean snapped.

"Him." Sam glanced at Timmy.

~/~\~

"You know what? I think maybe his mom can't let go and she's still protecting him from the grave." Sam explained.

"Protecting him from what? What, from us?" Dean asked.

"Maybe she doesn't know what threats are real and what's not, so she just attacks all of them," Angela replied.

"Great." Dean scoffed. "So, what, unless we waste the kid, we're sitting ducks?"

"This is—this is crazy." Robin cut in frantically.

"Robin," Dean sighed.

Robin stepped out of the remnants of the salt circle, and ran out of the kitchen toward the front of the house.

"Robin! Dammit." Dean chased after her. "Robin, wait!"

"Who are you?" Robin demanded.

"Right now I'm the only thing that's keeping you safe," Dean answered.

Robin, disbelieving, turned to leave—and turned to see the ghost of Timmy's mom, who had suddenly appeared. The ghost made a gesture and Dean went flying backward into a wall. The ghost clenched her first, and Dean clutched his heart in pain. Robin watched in terror.

"Timmy, we're gonna need your help, okay?" Sam's voice came from the kitchen.

Hearing Sam, the ghost let go of Dean and dissipated.

In the kitchen, Angela and Sam knelt in front of Timmy.

"Listen to me, honey," Angela murmured. "We need you to focus, okay?"

Suddenly, the ghost of Timmy's mom appeared behind Sam and Angela.

"Look, we are not here to hurt you," Sam assured.

The ghost grabbed Sam and Angela, pulling them backward. She made a gesture, pinning them against the wall. Dean came rushing in.

"Sammy! Angie!"

The ghost turned towards Dean and threw him back as well.

"I can't stop her." Timmy's voice wavered.

"Timmy, you have to try!" Dean pressed. "She came to you when you cried out for her. Now you have to tell her to stop and go away!"

"She's my mom," Timmy argued, tears in his eyes.

"She's a ghost," Dean replied. "Timmy, because she can't move on, she's going crazy. Okay? You got to let her go. You'll be okay. Listen to me. Sometimes you got to do what's best for you, even if it's gonna hurt the ones you love."

Timmy adjusted his glasses. "Mommy… Stop it."

"Timmy, Kung Fu grip!" Dean exclaimed.

"Mommy, stop it! Stop hurting people!" Timmy yelled.

Sam, Dean, and Angela gasped in relief as the ghost let them go. Sam and Angela immediately checked on Grace, who was in the baby carrier. The ghost turned to face Timmy, and held her arms out to him.

"You have to go." Timmy continued. "Never come back. I'll be okay. I promise."

The ghostly essence peeled from Timmy's mother, leaving her looking whole and human. She smiled tearfully at her son as she held her arms out to him.

"I love you, too." Timmy smiled sadly.

Timmy's mother faded away completely. Timmy immediately ran to Dean who embraced him. Robin came back into the room, staring at the hunters.

~/~\~

"So, then, this is… the family business?" Robin asked Dean.

"Told you it was boring." He shrugged.

Robin laughed. "Yeah, right."

"Well, as you can see, I did not run off to become a rock star."

"Mm… I don't know about that." Robin smirked. "You look pretty rockin' to me, Dean Winchester."

Dean chuckled. "And what about you?"

"I mean, I always thought that I would hate being in the same little town my whole life, and, you know, taking over the diner like Dad always wanted," Robin sighed. "But… I don't. I just—I love it."

"I guess we didn't know everything we thought we did at 16, huh?" Dean smirked.

"Not everything. Just some things." Robin stood on her toes to kiss his cheek.

Robin walked over to the porch to be with Timmy. Dean smiled softly and waved at them both.

"Sounds like Timmy's gonna need some help adjusting." Sonny walked over.

"Yeah, but he's got you," Dean replied.

Sonny sighed heavily. "I always hate to see you go, Dee-dawg. Can't thank you enough for this one, man."

"Sonny, we'll see you around," Dean promised.

"You can bet on that. Take it easy, man."

Sonny and Dean slapped each other's shoulders one last time, and Sonny walked off. Sam, Dean, and Angela stood by the Impala. Sam held a sleeping Grace.

"Hey, h-how did you know Timmy asking his mom to leave was gonna work?" Sam questioned curiously.

"I didn't. Total hail Mary. Got lucky."

"You just got lucky?" Angela raised a row.

Dean nodded.

"Kind of like you did with this place," Sam muttered. "I mean, here I was thinking this was the worst part of your life, and it turns out it was the best. Why'd you ever leave?"

"Never felt right." Dean shrugged.

"Really?" Sam asked skeptically.

"It was two months, Sam, okay?" Dean sighed. "And I couldn't wait to get out of here. I don't know what to tell you. It wasn't me."

Dean paused for a moment to look back at the house as Sam and Angela got into the Impala, buckling Grace into her car seat.

~/~\~

_Dean fastened his tie when Sonny entered the room._

_"Oh, look at you." Sonny grinned. "You clean up good!"_

_"Thank you," Dean replied. "You know, uh… I've never actually been to one of these school dances before."_

_"Yeah." Sonny sighed. "Look, about that, Dean, your old man's outside… and, man, he's really something. I tried to tell him what a big night it was for you, Dean, and ask him if he could come back later, but he just said to tell you he had a job, said you'd know what that means."_

_Dean nodded, holding back tears. He exhaled heavily, glancing at a photo of him and Robin._

_"You know," Sonny continued. "After I got out of jail, this place gave me a second chance, and it's done the same for you, too. So, if you want, I'll stick my neck out for you, and I'll fight for you to stay."_

_John's car horn honked from outside. Dean went to the window to look, and saw a very young-looking Sam holding a plane out the window of the car. Dean laughed, choked-up, and turned back toward Sonny, holding out a hand. A tear trickled out of Dean's eye as they shook hands._

_"Sonny… thank you—for everything. But I have to go."_

~/~\~

Dean got into the Impala, sighing softly.

"Dean… Thank you." Sam commented.

"For what?" Dean's brows furrowed.

"For always being there, for having my back," Sam replied. "Look, I know it always hasn't been easy…"

"I don't know what the hell you're talking about." Dean chuckled.


	15. Rock and a Hard Place Part 1

_Lebanon, Kansas_

Sam was fast asleep lying over the kitchen table, snoring softly. Angela sat next to him while Grace sat in her highchair. Angela was feeding Grace mashed bananas. Dean walked in and poured himself a cup of coffee. He grabbed a bowl and slammed it on the table, waking Sam up.

"I'm up," Sam mumbled.

"Seriously, Dean?" Angela raised a brow. "He was up all night with Gracie, he's exhausted."

"I'm fine. I was just resting my head for a second." Sam rubbed his eyes. "Um, how's Kevin? He, uh—he find anything?"

"Uh, jack." Dean huffed. "On about four days no sleep. He looks worse than you."

"Huh. What about Crowley?" Sam questioned. "Um, do you think he might be lying about the whole, uh, 'Metatron's spell being irreversible' thing?"

"Oh, Crowley lie?" Dean scoffed. "I do know one thing. Next time that junkie's jonesing for a hit of blood, we got leverage."

Sam still looked half asleep and yawned loudly.

"Baby, you should go to bed," Angela suggested gently. "You're exhausted."

"No, I'm fine, baby," Sam assured.

"You're sick," Dean argued.

"No, I'm _not_ sick." Sam rolled his eyes. "I'm just, um—I feel like my battery can't recharge."

Suddenly, Angela's cell phone started ringing. She set down the spoon she was feeding Grace with.

"Hello?"

 _"Hey, Angie. Jody Mills."_ Her voice rang through.

"Jody." Angela smiled. "Hang on. Sam and Dean are here, too." She put the phone on speaker.

 _"Hey, Jody."_ The boys greeted.

 _"Hey, boys."_ She replied. _"Uh… I got a bit of an oddball to pitch your direction."_

"Shoot," Dean replied.

 _"A small town I cover outside of Sioux Falls—only crime to speak of being the occasional cow tipping,"_ Jody explained. _"Then last week… four people go missing."_

"Alright, so, what makes you think this is our kind of weird?" Angela asked.

 _"I've got a witness who says he saw someone lift an S.U.V. to nab a girl last night,"_ Jody explained.

~/~\~

_Hartford, South Dakota_

The Impala sped down the country road. It pulled up to _Casey's Great Plains Diner_ and parked next to Jody's truck. The three hunters got out, and Angela took Grace out of her car seat. Jody smiled as she walked over.

"Sheriff." Dean greeted as he hugged her. "Laying off the blind dates, I hope."

"Yeah." She pulled away. "You bite your tongue, boy."

"Hey." Sam smiled, hugging Jody.

Angela adjusted Grace in her arms and hugged Jody. "Hey, Jody."

"Hey, Angie." The Sheriff smiled, then looked at Grace. "Oh my gosh, she's getting so big."

"I know." Angela sighed softly. "She's six-months-old now, we can't believe it."

"Baba." Grace babbled, a smile on her face.

Sam smiled at his daughter, then looked at Jody. "So, what do ya got for us?"

"So," Jody started. "Car was right over there, ass over teakettle. Now, normally, if somebody would tell me that one guy lifted an S.U.V., I'd tell him to take a flying leap, but after what I've seen…"

"Nothing's impossible," Angela muttered.

"Uh-huh."

"And this matches up with the other missing how?" Dean questioned.

"Well, four abductions, strong evidence left at every scene—literally," Jody explained.

"So, first vic was a pastor?" Angela asked.

"Yeah. Door of his study was punched in. And then, the next two—an engaged couple."

"Locked bedroom window was ripped open." Dean read the file.

"Mm-hmm." Jody hummed. "And then we have our waitress here with the topsy-turvy ride."

"Any other connection among them?" Sam's brows furrowed.

"Yeah. They were all members of Good Faith Church here. My, uh, my church group back in Sioux Falls was in a tizzy over it."

"Hmm." Dean hummed.

"What?" Jody raised her brows.

"I didn't peg you for churchy." He shrugged.

"Yeah." She sighed. "You know… Choking on the ladies' room floor 'cause of witchcraft kind of makes a higher power seem relevant."

"Jody, are you sure you're, uh, good to jump back in the fray?" Dean asked concernedly.

"This wackadoo stuff keeps coming. More I know, better armed I'll be."

"Okay, so, we have, uh, missing church folk and super strength," Sam muttered. "Maybe angels harvesting vessels? Could be a Buddy Boyle type thing."

Jody's eyes widened. "Wh— _angels?_ You're joking."

"Don't get your pants on fire." Dean scoffed. "They suck."

"You said there was a witness." Angela cut in.

"Yeah, well… more or less."

~/~\~

Sam, Dean, and Angela were sitting at a restaurant booth. Angela had Grace on her lap. Jody walked over with Slim.

"Okay, Slim," she started. "My friends here want to talk to you about the missing girl."

"Honor. Her name was Honor." He replied. "Nice girl. Always left me meatloaves."

"Mm." Dean hummed.

"Slim, why don't you tell us what you saw that night?" Angela asked gently.

"I heard a big noise, got woke, and there's somebody over there lifting a car up—like this." Slim lifted his hands above his head.

"And di you happen to see who it was?" Dean asked.

"I was too far. But I saw a light go off."

"A white light?" Sam raised his brows.

Slim shook his head. "Blue. Blue like fire. But not. Then she was—she wasn't there."

"Could you think of anything else?" Angela asked.

"No." he shook his head.

"Okay. Well… Slim, thank you for your time." Dean handed him a $20.

Slim gratefully took the money and walked away.

"Okay." Sam sighed. "So, no white light."

"No Angel," Dean muttered. "Has anybody talked to the victims' families?"

"It's next on my list," Jody replied.

"Okay," Dean nodded. "And you said that they were all part of the same church?"

"Mm-hmm."

Dean looked at Sam and Angela, a smirk on his face. "Ready to get your worship on?"

~/~\~

Dean, Sam, and Angela sat across from Bonnie Futchko in her church office. Jody was back at the motel babysitting Grace while she did research.

"We hope you enjoyed the tour." Bonnie smiled. "Any questions before we get you three registered?"

"Uh, yeah, uh, look, um, Ms. Futchko—

"Oh, please… Bonnie will do just fine." She corrected Sam.

"Bonnie," Sam nodded. "Okay, um, we… love the church. We do."

"But…" Angela continued. "Well, we've heard that a few members have gone missing, and to be honest…" she took one of Sam's hands in hers. "That kind of scares us."

Sam ran a thumb over the back of Angela's hand.

"Let me assure you," Bonnie started. "With our increased security, Good Faith has _never_ been safer. And those people who have gone missing, well, they are front in center in our prayers."

"What a relief." Dean nodded. "Now, you must have been, uh, close to them."

"Well, we do share the A.P.U. bond." Bonnie smiled.

"The A.P.U.?" Angela asked curiously.

"Our chastity group… 'Abstinence Purifies Us.'" Bonnie explained.

"Oh. W-wow." Sam stammered. "You mind if we sit in on that, maybe see if it's for us?"

"I'm afraid it's members only. I'm sorry, but it can get pretty personal."

"Then count us in." Sam smiled.

"Well," Bonnie blushed slightly. "I'll be a squirrel in a skirt. I'll be back in a jiff with the papers."

Bonnie left to get the papers and Dean leaned over to Sam and Angela.

"A chastity group?" he muttered.

"Dean, listen," Sam sighed. "If all the members were in A.P.U., then maybe whatever took them is stalking virgins."

"And Slim said he thought he saw fire," Angela muttered. "So, what are we thinking, dragons?"

"Mm," Sam said as he noticed Bonnie returning. "Shh."

"Alrighty," she handed the three hunters their clipboards. "You can just sign there, and your purification can begin."

Angela's brows furrowed as she read the paper. "Purity pledge?"

"It's a commitment to your virginity," Bonnie replied.

"I don't think we can really un-ring that bell." Dean chuckled. "You know what I mean?"

Bonnie looked slightly taken aback. "Oh. I see. Well… if you just ask for God's forgiveness for your sins and make a new vow of chastity, well, then, you'll be born again as a virgin in his eyes."

"So, you just hit the 'virginity do-over' button, and all is good with the man upstairs?" Dean raised his brows.

"It's not a button," Bonnie muttered. "And… this isn't _just_ a piece of paper. I mean, this is your clean slate, your chance to be a virgin until marriage."

"Well, you had me at 'clean slate.'" Dean grinned. "Let's do this."

Dean and Sam both signed their real names while Angela signed with her maiden name. The three hunters handed the clipboards back to Bonnie.

"Congratulations, Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, and Angela Morgan," Bonnie smiled. "You are now virgins."

Dean smiled sheepishly at Sam and Angela.

~/~\~

The A.P.U. group sat in the Sunday school room. The group consisted of multiple women, including Angela, and Sam, and Dean.

"Good afternoon, everybody," Suzy smiled. "I'm Suzy. I thought we'd begin with a silent prayer for our missing friends."

Everyone closed their eyes in silent prayer, except for Dean, who was still watching everyone. Sam noticed and cleared his throat, causing Dean to quickly duck his head.

"Amen," Suzy whispered. "Now, does anyone have anything that they would like to share?"

"I wrote a new piece of verse," Tammy started. "It's called 'sex is a racket, and God's ball is in your court.'"

"And we would love to hear that, Tammy—later," Suzy replied. "Why don't we hear from our new friends? Sam, what brought you here to reclaim your virginity?"

"Well, my fiancée and I," he started, gesturing to Angela. "We, uh, we've had… relations, and we wish that we had just waited until we got married. We want to start fresh."

Angela nodded, going along with the lie. "Exactly. We want God to forgive us for our sins."

"Thank you for being here," Suzy smiled softly. "Stay strong. Stay pure."

"Stay strong. Stay pure." The other women chanted.

"And you, Dean?" Suzy quirked a brow. "What set you on the path away from sin?"

"Uh, hard to say, exactly," Dean sighed. "Yeah. Sex has always felt—I don't know—good, you know? I mean, really, _really_ good. Uh… But, uh… Sometimes, it just makes you feel bad, you know? You're drunk. You shack up." He explained. "Then, it's the whole morning thing. You know, 'Hey, that was fun.' And then, 'adios.' You know? Always the 'adios.'" He recalled wistfully. "But, you know, when you get down to it, what's the big deal, right? I mean, sure, there's the touching and the feeling _all_ of each other, my hands everywhere, tracing every inch of her body, the two of us moving together, pressing and pulling… Grinding."

All of the women in the room started to shift uncomfortably as Dean spoke.

"Then you hit that sweet spot," Dean continued. "And everything just builds and builds and builds until it all just…"

Angela cleared her throat loudly and gave Dean an unimpressed look.

"Yeah." Dean cleared his throat. "Uh… But the whole thing was just a little too, uh… _sticky._ So, uh, I got my 'V' card back." He slapped his leg. "The end."

~/~\~

After the meeting ended, the women were putting away the fold-up chairs.

"Hm. So, um… Wee bit of an over-share, Dean?" Angela quirked a brow.

"I was purifying, Angie." Dean corrected. "Hey, she looked familiar to you guys?"

Sam and Angela turned around to see that Dean was looking at Suzy.

"Suzy?" the couple asked.

"Yeah." Dean nodded. "Swear I know her from somewhere."

Sam rolled his eyes, exasperated. "Oh, good, Dean. 'Cause that line never fails."

"Well, let's find out." He smirked.

Dean left in pursuit of Suzy as Bonnie walked up to Sam and Angela.

"Hey." The couple greeted.

"So?" Bonnie asked.

"So?" Sam raised his brows.

"How did you guys like the meeting?"

"Oh, we loved it," Angela replied with fake sincerity. "Yeah. Um, you know, w-we couldn't help but think of those who weren't here."

"Oh." Bonnie nodded. "Honor. She's my favorite."

Tammy overheard and her face contorted in anger. Bonnie suddenly noticed another A.P.U. member stuffing cookies into a napkin for later.

"Would you excuse me?" Bonnie muttered.

Tammy approached Sam and Angela once Bonnie was gone.

"Her favorite?" she hissed. "She has no idea what kind girl Honor is."

"You don't say," Sam replied. "Uh, Tammy, right? The poet?"

"Mm-hmm." She hummed.

"Tammy, why—why don't, um, why don't you tell us what kind of girl Honor is?"

~/~\~

"Are you sure we don't know each other?" Dean asked Suzy.

"Yeah, I-I'm pretty sure we've never met, Dean." She assured.

"Hmm."

"Wait, you're—you're new in town, right?" she inquired.

"Uh, yeah." Dean nodded. "New to town. New to this whole chastity thing."

"Well, I provide individual counseling," Suzy replied. "If you ever need to talk—

"So, everybody in the group, they dish to you?" Dean interrupted.

"They confide." Suzy nodded. "Abstinence is—it's really rough without support and education. Hey, you know what? I have some great books on the vow that really helped me. I-I live close. I'll just go grab them."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa," Dean stopped her. "With a, uh, with a kidnapper on the loose?"

"No, I'll be fine." She assured.

"Tell you what—why don't I walk with you just to be safe, okay? Just give me one second."

~/~\~

"And I bake _real_ cookies for the bake sale." Tammy rambled. "Honor just brings Oreos!"

"Oh." Sam nodded. "You know what? Excuse us."

Dean walked up to the couple with a grin on his face. "Guess who's taking the teacher home. Research."

"You really think you're gonna hit that?" Sam scoffed. "Dean, she's the chastity counselor."

"Yeah, I know." He shrugged. "What about you guys? Any luck?"

"You mean are we actually working?" Angela sassed. "As a matter of face, yes, we are."

"Alright, well, good luck with that," Dean replied before walking back to Suzy. "Okay." He smiled charmingly. "Lead the way."

Sam and Angela turned back to Tammy.

"Hey," Angela started. "Sorry. So, where were we?"

"Honor is going to Hell," Tammy replied with certainty.

~/~\~

Jody sat in the hotel room typing on a laptop. Grace was in her pack-and-play, shaking her rattled when Sam and Angela entered.

"Hey." Sam greeted.

"How was church?" Jody asked curiously.

"Well, it turned into confessional," Angela replied as she picked up Grace. "Apparently, two of our vics, Honor and Pastor Fred, did the dirty."

"Oh, well. They're not the only ones." Jody replied. "Barb Blanton, our missing bride to be—

"Yeah?" Sam raised his brows.

"Her mom said she heard Barb and her fiancé in Barb's bedroom."

"Going at it?" Sam frowned.

"Well, she said she heard sex noises, then Barb crying, then Neil telling Barb it didn't count because it was under 30 seconds," Jody explained.

Sam chuckled, causing Angela to give him a look.

"Sam, don't act as if you've never… released early before." She muttered.

"Hey-

"Anyway," Jody cut in. "Two hours later, she heard a smash and saw a flash of light under the door."

"Blue light?" Angela asked.

Jody nodded. "You know, I'm thinking whatever this thing is, it's not going after virgins, even born-again virgins."

"It's taking virgins who break their chastity vow." Sam sighed. "So, dragons are off the list."

Jody frowned deeply. "I'm sor—dragons? Those are a thing?"

"Yeah," Angela muttered. "Too many things are things."

~/~\~

Suzy and Dean walked into her cozy little apartment.

"Make yourself at home." She smiled.

Dean watched Suzy take off her hoodie leaving her just wearing a camisole. She sat down on her couch with her back to Dean. His cell phone started ringing, and he immediately silenced the call.

"Not now, Kato." He muttered as he made his way toward the couch.

Dean stopped when he noticed that Suzy was crying. He shifted uncomfortably.

"I can't stop thinking about my friends." She admitted. "I'm so scared for them. Will you pray with me, Dean?"

Dean looked slightly uncomfortable at the request. "Sure."

~/~\~

Sam huffed when he got Dean's voicemail—again.

 _"This is Dean's other, other cell so you must know what to do."_ The recording played.

"Dean. Come on, call me." Sam stressed before hanging up.

He sat down across from Jody and pulled Angela to sit down on his lap. Grace was sound asleep in her pack-and-play.

"You know," Jody started. "For being born again today, you sure look like crap."

Sam and Angela looked at each other for a quick second.

"Wait a second," Sam frowned. "Did you… get—

"Born again?" Jody raised her brows.

"Yeah." Angela nodded.

"Oh," Jody chuckled. "I don't make promises I can't keep. It's just… I enjoy church. I mean, after… after Bobby, Crowley… I needed something that made sense to me—you know, comfort, I guess."

"Yeah," Sam murmured, pulling Angela closer to him. "I guess we're all looking for that."

"Except those that got it." Jody countered.

Sam tilted his head, slightly puzzled.

"Come on. You, Angie, Dean, and Grace?" Jody continued. "That's something special, don't you think?"

Angela smiled softly and gently kissed Sam. "Sure is."

~/~\~

Suzy bent down to grab some books off of the shelf. Her shirt rode up slightly, baring her lower back. Dean rolled his eyes and tried to look away. Suzy stood up and handed eight books to Dean.

"Okay," she sighed. "So, why don't you breeze through these, and I'm gonna head to the little girls' room."

"Mm, yeah." Dean nodded.

Suzy left the room and Dean walked over to the entertainment center, setting the books down as his phone rang. He hit the answer button, but before he could lift the phone to his ear, he noticed a cracked drawer with some DVDs in it. He opened the drawer wider and in shock, he pulled out two Casa Erotica DVDs.

 _"Hey,"_ Sam's voice rang through. _"Dean? Hey, Dean. Are you there?"_

Dean made the connection that the naked girl on the front of the DVDs was Suzy. His eyes widened.

 _"Hello?"_ Sam asked. _"Dean? Dean?"_

Dean finally snapped out of his shock and raised the phone to his ear. "Sammy! Hey."

 _"What's going on?"_ Sam asked curiously.

"I found something big."

 _"Yeah. So did we."_ Sam replied. _"So, get this—it's not a dragon."_

"Uh-huh," Dean muttered, still staring at the DVDs. "Uh—ooh."

 _"Dean?"_ Sam asked.

"Copy that," Dean replied, quickly hanging up when he heard Suzy coming back.

Dean quickly tried to hide the DVDs behind his back as he swung around to face her.

"Hey. Or should I say… 'Hola'?"

Suzy looked slightly confused. "Uh, why?"

"No reason. No reason." Dean shrugged.

"A-are you okay?" she asked concernedly.

"Me?" he scoffed. "Ah—I'm great. Why?"

"Uh, you seem… I-I don't know, nervous."

Dean laughed nervously. "Nervous? No. I'm not nervous… Carmelita."

Suzy's face fell in resignation. "So, you've seen my… work. Listen, I don't blame you if you want to be assigned a new counselor. I-I get it."

"No. No, no." Dean replied quickly. "Are you—are you kidding me? I mean, you're—you're a freaking legend."

"No!" Suzy panicked. "I-I am—I'm _not_ that girl anymore. I moved here. I changed my name. That girl was—was horrible."

"Listen, uh, Suzy," Dean cut in. "I've seen a lot of awful things, stuff of nightmares, okay? But you—you're the good dreams."

Suzy smiled softly, a blush creeping onto her cheeks.

"And nobody in Hartford knows?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, what am I supposed to say? 'Oh, yeah, hey, I used to be a porn star. Let's pray'?"

"Well…" Dean smirked. "They do not appreciate you. I mean… the things you can do—the scene with the tacos."

"Yeah." Suzy's smile grew.

"Made me want to join a mariachi band just to be near you." He murmured fondly.

"Well, you are now," Suzy smirked at Dean enticingly.

Dean blinked a few times. "I am, aren't I?"

Suzy sauntered toward Dean. "You're not like… the other guys in town, are you? You're kind of a… a bad boy."

"I don't know," Dean replied huskily. "Why don't you ask me that in Spanish?"

Suzy's smirk grew. "Eres un Chico malo?"

"Sí," Dean growled.

Suzy quickly closed the gap between them and kissed Dean passionately. He pulled her head in and hungrily kissed her back. He lifted her up onto his hips as they kissed.

~/~\~

Jody was typing on her laptop while Angela changed Grace's diaper. They both looked over to see Sam shrugging on his jacket.

"What's up, babe?" Angela asked.

"This thing is taking people that break their vows, right?" Sam proposed.

"Yeah." Jody nodded.

"Dean and Suzy—been over an hour." Sam sighed.

"Crap." Angela sighed as she finished changing Grace's diaper.

~/~\~

Dean and Suzy walked to her door as they finished putting their clothes back on.

"I got to say… I really missed that." Suzy grinned.

"I miss it already," Dean replied.

He gently pulled her head toward him and kissed her again. Suzy wrapped both arms around Dean's neck and kissed him back.

"Okaaay." Dean murmured as he pulled away.

Dean turned to open the door and when he did, both him and Suzy were thrown back in the apartment in a blinding flash of blue light.


	16. Rock and a Hard Place Part 2

Suzy regained consciousness and looked around the dark underground room.

"Hey. Dean." She shook his. "Dean. Hey, come on. Dean. Dean."

Dean jerked awake. "Where are we?"

"Hell," Neil replied grimly.

~/~\~

Sam was in Suzy's apartment, looking at the Casa Erotica DVDs, putting two and two together. Angela walked into the apartment.

"Hey, babe." Sam greeted.

"Hey."

"Neighbors see anything?" he asked curiously.

"Flash of blue," Angela replied. "What the _hell_ are you looking at?"

Sam held up the DVDs. "I think Dean crossed someone off his bucket list."

~/~\~

Dean stood on the ladder, trying to push open the tightly shut trap door.

"We tried," Neil commented. "There's no escape."

"Are we gonna run out of air?" Suzy asked concernedly.

"I don't think so," Neil replied. "Somebody wants us to die nice and slow."

"And then it's gonna take us," Honor added. "Just like it took Pastor Fred."

"What took him?" Dean questioned.

"We couldn't see, exactly." Honor answered. "It—It was so bright. I-it was like it was on fire."

~/~\~

Sam and Angela were back in the motel room with Jody, who had Grace in her lap.

"Hey," Jody started, staring at her laptop. "Virgins, fire—sound familiar?"

Angela leaned over Jody's shoulder. "Vesta, Roman Goddess of the Hearth."

"In ancient Rome, six virgins were dedicated to this chick every year," Jody explained. "Their main duty was to tend Vesta's hearth."

"Wait, so, fire is connected to virginity?" Sam asked, brows furrowed.

"Yeah," Jody nodded. "The girls had to be pure because fire is the symbol of purity."

"Huh." Sam nodded. "Okay, as long as Vesta's fire was kept lit, Rome received a good harvest."

"The virgins had to stay celibate for 30 years." Jody read. "If they broke their vows, they were buried alive."

~/~\~

"Son of a bitch," Dean grumbled as he tried to open the trap door again.

"Dean," Suzy sighed. "Maybe God wants us down here—because of what we did."

"Trust me," Dean replied as he climbed down the ladder. "This is not God's work. Son of a…" he checked his pockets.

"What's wrong?" Suzy questioned.

"They took my phone," Dean muttered. "Luckily…" he pulled out a second one. "I keep a spare." He added as he held the phone over his head. "Come on, bars."

Honor watched Dean attempt to use his phone and then caught Neil staring at her suspiciously. Honor immediately averted her eyes.

~/~\~

"Vesta was often enveloped in a blue halo of light, which she could control at will to disorients, to maim—ohh—or to kill." Jody read.

"Okay, what about some way to kill her?" Angela asked. "A-a weapon or—or something."

Jody went back to typing, but was interrupted when Sam's phone started to ring.

"Dean?" Sam answered.

 _"Sam! Sammy!"_ Dean's voice rang through.

"Dean. Hey."

 _"Hey, listen to me."_ Dean's voice was full of static. _"I'm—_

Sam's brows furrowed. "Dean, wh—

_"Underground."_

"Say it again," Sam replied. "I can't hear you."

_"We're—some kind of—_

"Dean!" Sam exclaimed. "I lost him."

"What?" Jody and Angela asked concernedly.

"Listen," Sam looked at Jody. "Is there some kind of train station around here or something? I-I could have sworn I heard a whistle."

~/~\~

"Don't, Neil." Barb pleaded. "Please, don't."

"Shh. Shh." He hushed.

Dean narrowed his eyes. "Don't what, Neil?"

"Just mind your beeswax, pal." Neil snapped.

Dean marched over to Neil. "Hey. Hey! Listen, we're all stuck down here together. So, you got something to say, you say it."

"Okay," Neil pursed his lips. "Look, whatever that fireball thing was, it's taking the weakest, and I am not gonna be next. So, the way I see it, her leg's busted anyway." He motioned to Honor. "We serve her up. It could buy us some time."

"Screw you, Neil." Honor scoffed.

Dean shoved Neil to the wall. "Busted leg? Try a _sprained ankle,_ okay? Nobody's serving anybody up!"

"We are under the gallows, all of us." Neil retorted. "Give it Honor. It might save the rest of our necks, unless you have a better plan."

"Maybe I do." Dean sneered. "Maybe we'll give him _you._ Oh, what, you don't like that idea? The shut up!"

~/~\~

"Here we go," Sam started. "8:00 p.m. trail out of Sioux Falls. 79 miles an hour. What's five miles east of Hartford—anything?"

"Uh… Pasture mostly." Jody shrugged. "No—the old Wimmer farm."

"Anything on a weapon?" Angela asked as she shrugged on her jacket.

"Oak stained in virgin blood. Where are we gonna get a virgin?" Jody frowned.

"Angie and I are virgins." Sam realized.

"I think we need the real McCoy here, baby," Angela replied.

Jody adjusted Grace in her arms as she stood up. She gave both Sam and Angela motherly kisses on their cheeks.

"You two be safe, you hear?"

~/~\~

Tammy stared at Sam and Angela in horror.

"You need what?"

"Your blood," Sam replied.

"Just a dab," Angela added.

Tammy's brows furrowed. "But… _Pagans_ use blood. Are you pagans?"

"What?" Sam scoffed. "Pagan? No, look, it's for a weapon that—

"You are in a House of God." Tammy interrupted. "Your psycho rituals aren't gonna fly here."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Okay, we don't have time for this."

"I don't have time for devil worshippers!" Tammy snapped. "I'm calling the cops."

Angela rolled her eyes and pulled out one of her fake FBI badges before punching Tammy square in the face.

"I am the cops." She countered.

Tammy frantically tried to stop her bleeding nose. "What the fudge, lady?!"

Angela wiped some blood off Tammy's face. "Wipe your nose, hon."

~/~\~

The Impala sped down the dark country road.

~/~\~

Sam and Angela walked into an abandoned barn with flashlights.

"Angie." Sam motioned her to go one way.

~/~\~

Sam looked around the barn. He noticed the trap door and started to clear the dirt and hay off of it.

~/~\~

Dean looked up when he heard a banging sound above his head.

"Told you," Neil noted frantically. "It's back for one of us. What are you gonna do now? Right, you should have listened to me—

"Shh!" Dean hissed. "Shut up."

~/~\~

"Angie!" Sam called over.

"Sam?"

"Dean!" Sam exclaimed. "We're here. We're gonna get you out! Angie, I found it!"

~/~\~

Dean climbed up the ladder to the trap door. "Sammy? Sammy! Sammy!"

~/~\~

"Hey, Dean, we're here," Sam assured. "We're gonna get you out."

Sam attempted to pry open the door but was suddenly flung away by an invisible force.

~/~\~

"Sammy, are you still there?!" Dean called out.

~/~\~

Angela rushed in to see Sam unconscious on the floor of a stall. "Sammy!"

Suddenly, Angela was grabbed by a shadow and it turned out to be Bonnie. She shoved Angela up against a post and yanked her left glove off her hand with her teeth.

"Now, now. Shh." Bonny smirked as her pointer finger lit up a brilliant blue.

~/~\~

"Really?" Angela raised her brows. "This is how a goddess acts?"

"What?" Bonnie snarled.

"I don't know, a Roman deity burying people alive in a barn?" Angela scoffed. "Sort of pathetic, don't you think?"

Bonnie punched Angela square in the face. "It only got pathetic when I started having to do it myself. Because of that hippie from Bethlehem—before him, they practically threw virgins at me. And now—

"They let your fire go out." Angela finished. "They forgot about you. Yeah, I know. Sucks to be Lindsay Lohan, doesn't it?"

Bonnie punched Angela again. "Actually, I figured if you can't beat them, join them. That's right," she threw a tarp off a slaughter table covered in blood. "I adapted! Now I chew on the cud of prayer. Heck… I even got a sweater set."

~/~\~

Dean ran his fingers over the trap door, finding a rusty screw. "Screwdriver, anybody?"

Honor rummaged through the first-aid kit, finding a pair of scissors. "Hey. From the first-aid kit."

~/~\~

Bonnie threw Angela onto the slaughter table and harshly started tying her down.

"Aah!" Angela yelled in pain.

"They used to beg to stay pure for me." Bonnie sneered. "And now I have to drag them kicking and screaming. And they're not even _real_ virgins. They're _born-again._ You want to talk about pathetic?"

"Yeah," Angela scoffed. "You're a real charity case."

"Oh, no, sweetheart." Bonnie laughed. "This isn't charity. I take what I deserve. When those trollops are about to die soaked in their juicy fear, I… eat… their… livers! Because that's the only part of them still working to purify the body that they've trashed. Now, normally, I like them weaker, but let's just call this a hunter's exception, shall we?"

"Sure," Angela grunted.

She pulled out the oak stake dipped in virgin's blood. She attempted to stab Bonnie, but she pulled it out of Angela's hands.

"This is how a goddess acts!" Bonnie exclaimed.

Sam attacked Bonnie from behind and she fell forward, stabbing Angela in the chest. Angela yelled in pain and Bonnie flung Sam back into the stall.

~/~\~

"Come on," Dean muttered as he worked on the screw. "Come on, come on, come on."

~/~\~

Bonnie's finger lit up again and she pressed it to Sam's stomach. Angela started to painfully pull the stake out of her chest.

"Aah!" Sam yelled.

"What's wrong with you?" Bonnie sneered.

Sam's brows furrowed in worry. "What?"

"Your liver," she started. "It's—it's no good. Dear boy, you're all duct tape and safety pins inside. How are you alive?"

Angela stabbed Bonnie with the stake from behind. Bonnie evaporated in a brilliant blue light. Sam immediately got to his feet and checked on Angela. Dean finally popped the trap door open.

"What did I miss?" he looked around.

~/~\~

Angela's arm was in a sling as she packed up her things.

"Aah." She muttered in pain.

"Baby, let me help you." Sam cut in softly.

"Thanks, babe." Angela smiled softly.

Jody adjusted Grace in her arms. "I'll get the little one set up in the car. I'd tell you three to stay out of trouble, but what's the point?"

"Thanks, Jody." The three hunters replied simultaneously.

Sam sighed heavily after Jody left. He sat on the bed after he finished packing up Angela's things.

"What's up?" Dean questioned.

"What if there is something wrong with me—something… really wrong?" Sam whispered.

Dean sighed. "You're just crapped out, man. You need some rest."

"Oh, it's more than that. I mean, Vesta said I was practically dead inside." Sam replied.

"Oh, and she's in the circle of trust now?" Angela sat next to her husband.

"Why would she lie?" Sam countered.

"It's probably the trials, okay?" Dean shrugged. "Probably some sort of a, you know, aftereffect. It's not like you're bouncing back from the flu here. I mean, you were glowing with freaking trial juice."

"I don't know," Sam muttered.

"Well, what else would it be, baby?" Angela asked softly.

"Why does it have to be something else?" Sam questioned. "It's _always_ something else. We're always scraping to find some other explanation when maybe it is… just me."

"Oh, come on, babe." Angela sighed.

"I'm a mess, Angie," Sam stressed. "You know it. Dean knows it. And sometimes, I feel like maybe I'm never gonna actually be alright."

"You will," Dean assured. "Alright, 'cause whatever it is, we'll figure it out."

"Or this is… just the way I am," Sam argued.

Angela closed her eyes and sighed heavily. "I can't let you put this on yourself, baby. Listen to me. It's not you, Sam."

Suddenly, Sam's eyes flashed blue and he straightened up.

"I wouldn't do that, Angela," Ezekiel warned her.

"He deserves to know." Dean cut in firmly.

"Sam is not ready," Ezekiel stressed. "If he rejects me, he will not make it."

"Dammit, Ezekiel!" Angela snapped. "How much longer do have to keep playing this?"

"Not much longer. I promise you that." He assured before letting Sam take over again.

"What?" Sam asked, sounding slightly defeated.

"What?" Angela repeated, guilt settling in her gut.

"What? What—what's not me?" Sam reminded.

"Nothing." Angela shook her head. "I just—I-I meant that… if there is something wrong… it's not your fault. We'll deal with it. But you have to have a little faith, baby."

* * *


	17. Holy Terror Part 1

The Impala sped down the dark road. Angela sat in between the brothers, having just got off the phone with Kevin, who was babysitting Grace.

"So, he's better?" Dean questioned.

"Yes." Ezekiel nodded. "Sam is much improved. It shouldn't be much longer now."

"Okay, you know you said the same thing to us last week, right?" Dean reminded.

"As I told you when we met—this will take time." Ezekiel countered.

Dean exhaled in frustration. "Okay, well, go then. Heal. We'd just like Sam back, please."

"I must say," Ezekiel sighed. "I'm very uncomfortable with this whole trip. Investigating crimes involving angels—or anything involving angels—puts me, and therefore Sam, at risk."

"Look," Angela started. "If we ignore this, Sam's gonna think that something's up."

"Then I trust you will be discreet," Ezekiel replied after a pause.

"Wait," Angela frowned. "If you know where we're going, that means you've been listening in. Do you… hear _everything_ between me and Sam?"

Dean chuckled. "Angie, are you asking—

"Shut up, Dean." She interrupted. "Just answer the question."

"No. Just a word here and there," Ezekiel replied. "I have better things to do with my time than eavesdrop, like heal Sam."

"Okay—

Suddenly, Sam's eyes flashed blue, Ezekiel giving up control.

"You know, I was gonna say," Sam sighed. "It seems like it's really getting quiet out there, you know? Not a peep from the angels, even Buddy Boyle goes off the air and stops recruiting for them."

Dean sighed heavily. "Obviously calm before the storm."

"Yeah, maybe," Sam replied, unconvinced.

Sam frowned when he noticed something outside and frowned.

"What?" Dean muttered.

"That sign said, 'Fort Collins, 50 miles.'" Sam replied.

"So?" Dean raised a brow.

"So, last time I looked, like, 12 seconds ago, uh Fort Collins was a hundred miles."

Dean and Angela shared a brief look.

"Well, hey, man," Dean started. "Ever since that goddess got her hooks into you—

"No, it's more than Vesta!" Sam snapped, clearly agitated. "I mean, this kind of thing's been happening to me. Like, like there are chunks of time just… missing. Like there are times when I'm… not here."

"Well, like we've said—

"Yes, the trials." Sam rolled his eyes. "I know. I heard you guys. I heard you when you said it the last weeks and the week before that and the week before that."

"Yeah, because… damn straight the trials." Dean shrugged. "They whacked you, man. You're not up to warp speed, yet, okay? But you will be."

"Would we lie, babe?" Angela added.

~/~\~

_Caribou, Wyoming_

Sam, Dean, and Angela pulled up to the roadhouse in the Impala. They walked over to the police officer, dressed in their FBI apparel.

"Ah, one of your guys is here already." The cop noted when they flashed their badges.

The three hunters gave each other confused looks as they put their badges away and walked into the roadhouse.

~/~\~

Sam, Dean, and Angela looked around before finally spotting Castiel.

"Ah, my colleagues," Castiel commented, excusing himself.

Dean looked pointedly at Castiel while Sam and Angela smiled slightly. Angela nudged Castiel with her shoulder.

"Agent." She smiled.

"Agent." Castiel smiled back.

"Cas." Dean cut in. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Um," Castiel muttered. "I still have that badge you gave me."

"Yeah. Uh, _what the hell_ are you doing?" Dean repeated.

"The murders were all over the news. I, I thought I might be of help." Castiel explained obviously.

"Yeah, but Cas, you know that this is an angel situation, right?" Sam reminded. "I mean, you left that night because angels were on your ass."

"Yeah, and you were living the life, you know?" Dean interjected. "Early retirement, working your way up the Gas-n-Sip ladder."

"If angels are slaughtering one another, I have to do what I can to help," Castiel argued. "It is a risk we should be willing to take, don't you think?" he added, earning nods in agreement from Sam and Angela. "Hey. Cas is back in town."

"Seriously, did you…" Dean deadpanned, turning to Sam and Angela. "Did he just say that?"

"These angels," Castiel showed them a few photos. "Uh, they were butchered. Much more violence than was required."

"Definitely took more than one or two killers to pull this off." Angela nodded.

"Hit squad? Bartholomew's people?" Dean suggested.

"Well, Bartholomew has a faction we know about, but this could be somebody else entirely we don't know," Sam explained.

"Well, whoever it is… We'll find them." Castiel assured before walking off.

"We'll find them. That's great." Dean muttered.

Ezekiel suddenly took over and gave both Dean and Angela a disapproving look.

~/~\~

Sam, Dean, Angela, and Castiel sat in a bar at one of the high-tops.

"It is so good being together again," Castiel said sincerely. "You know, this is my first beer as a human. I hope it's okay, me joining you?"

"Why wouldn't it be okay?" Sam shrugged.

"You know, Cas," Dean interjected. "Are you sure you're ready to jump back into all this? I mean, it seemed to me and Angie like you'd actually found some peace."

"Hey, you once told me that you don't choose what you do. It chooses you." Castiel replied.

"Huh?" Dean's brows furrowed.

"I'm part of this." Castiel clinked beer bottles with Dean. "Like it or not."

"Alright, well, then, in that case, we have to figure out who we're up against, what do they want, and how do we stop them," Angela explained.

"Well, Bartholomew wants to reverse Metatron's spell," Castiel replied. "Presumably to—to retake Heaven once his following is large enough. That's according to April."

"The reaper you banged," Dean replied.

"Yeah, and you stabbed."

"Yeah," Dean muttered. "She was hot."

"So hot." Castiel agreed. "And very nice."

"Mm." Dean hummed appreciatively.

"Up to the point she started torturing me," Castiel added.

"Yeah. Well, not every hookup's perfect." Dean patted Castiel's arm.

Sam smiled at the exchange. "Alright. I'm gonna get us another round."

"Nah. I'll get it." Castiel hopped off his bar stool. "Mm. You know, I've never done this before."

Dean sighed as Castiel left. "One beer, he's hammered."

Suddenly, a blue light flashed in Sam's eyes.

"Oh, boy," Angela muttered.

"Well?" Ezekiel raised a brow. "What are you going to do about this?"

"About Cas?" Angela raised her brows. "He's our friend."

"He is a _beacon,_ Angela," Ezekiel stressed. "Pulling every angel for miles down on our heads."

"Alright, you know what, Zeke?" Dean cut in. "Level with us. What is it that you're so afraid of?"

"I told you. When I chose to answer your prayers and heal Sam, I chose sides." Ezekiel reminded. "That means I'm not in good standing with certain angels."

"Okay, well, you know what? Cas isn't in good standing with _any_ angel." Angela retorted. "But here he is, ass on the line, fighting the fight. So, tell us, Ezekiel, what makes you so special?"

"Here we go." Castiel grinned as he returned. "Four brewskies."

"I'm going to get something out of the car." Ezekiel stood up.

~/~\~

Castiel cleared his throat and looked between Dean and Angela. "I, um, noticed you look… kind of uncomfortable whenever Sam mentions my leaving. Doesn't he know that you told me to leave?"

"Here's the deal," Angela sighed. "When Sammy was doing the trials to seal up Hell, it messed him up. Okay? The third one nearly killed him. If we'd let him finish, it would have. He's still messed up, bad."

"But Ezekiel… he helped heal him, correct?" Castiel raised his brows.

"Look, we got to do anything we can to get him back." Dean sighed heavily. "Now, if that means that we keep our distance from you for a little while, then… Then we don't have a choice. I don't feel good about it, but Angie and I don't have a choice. It's great to have your help, Cas. Okay, but we just can't work together."

~/~\~

_Lebanon, Kansas_

Sam and Angela sat at the map table, looking at his laptop. Angela held Grace in her lap.

"Bababa." Grace babbled as she shook her rattle.

Dean came jogging into the room, sighing slightly.

"Any word from Cas?" Sam questioned.

"Nothing yet," Dean replied.

"And we're not… worried about him, that he just took off like that again?" Sam raised his brows. "I mean, it's not like he does this kind of stuff alone."

"It's the way he wanted it, honestly." Dean shrugged. "Hey, look, man, he's been all over the map since he got his wings clipped. What do you guys got?" he added, rolling his chair over to look at the laptop. "Obituaries. That one of the bikers?"

"Yeah," Angela nodded. "His name was Red Dawg."

"Heh." Dean chuckled. "Of course it was."

"It's not what you think," Sam assured. "Look, he's a family guy. Big in the PTA, he played Santa at Christmas parties."

"So, what?" Dean asked. "Just one day, he up and joined a biker gang?"

"No, he did that years ago," Sam replied. "Get this. This is weird. These are all the victims, right? They were all baptized together."

"Baptized?" Dean raised his brows.

"Yeah." Angela nodded. "They were a born-again biker gang."

"Well, that is not something you hear every day," Dean muttered.

"No, it's not," Angela muttered.

"Wait, make that bigger." Dean pointed to the photo. "Boyle's Boys? Boyle, as in reverend Buddy Boyle?"

"Listen to this," Sam replied as he typed. "Red Dawg's window said he was always religious, but a week before he died, he came home from a prayer meeting and was a changed man filled with divine glory."

"So, Boyle's at it again." Dean sighed. "Selling folks on being meat suits for angels."

"Just what—talking to smaller groups now?" Angela sighed.

"I don't know." Dean shook his head. "Maybe, uh, softening up thousands at a time, he wasn't able to control what angels got let in. This way, Bartholomew's followers can jump in as soon as Boyle does his thing."

"So, Red Dawg and his guys were Bartholomew people?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, and they got slaughtered," Dean muttered. "Which means that this new group is even worse. Haven't I always said that angels are dicks?"


	18. Holy Terror Part 2

Kevin, Dean, and Angela were researching at the tables. Grace sat on the floor near her mother's chair, playing with stacking cups.

"There may be nothing in here," Kevin started. "Crowley said the spell that cast down the angels was irreversible."

"Yeah, well, screw Crowley." Dean retorted. "Why would you think that anything he says is true?"

"This part is nearly indecipherable," Kevin commented. "Almost like, when Metatron wrote it down, he wanted to keep the words hidden, even from Prophets."

"Hey." Sam greeted as he walked in.

Angela stood up and walked over to her husband, kissing him sweetly on the lips.

"Hey, baby." She greeted, taking his hand in hers and leading him over to the table.

"Hey." Dean greeted his brother. "Check this out. Another angel attack."

"What?" Sam's brows furrowed. "Where?"

"Utah. A, uh, college, uh, Bible-study group and their, uh, their guest speaker—some top-shelf church lady." Dean explained. "Insides scorched out, kids' eyes were missing, but, not the church lady's."

"So, she was an angel, too?" Sam asked.

"Sounds like it," Angela replied. "Uh, and she sang soprano for the, uh, Melody Ministry Glee Club?"

"Okay?" Sam shrugged, confused.

"The club goes to its gigs on a bus," Dean replied. "So, when I checked with the Wyoming cops, they said that a witness saw the same bus leaving the biker bar not long before the bodies were found."

"So, church-lady angel was at both killings?" Sam raised a brow.

"I'm guessing that she and whoever she's running with killed Bartholomew's bikers at the bar and then Bart's boys hit her back," Dean explained.

"When she was recruiting those students to be vessels." Sam sighed, wrapping an arm around Angela. "Wow. It's just a bunch of kids."

"Kevin," Angela said softly. "Clock's ticking."

~/~\~

Dean and Angela headed to the kitchen. Angela had just managed to get Grace down for a nap.

"Hey," Dean greeted Kevin as he walked out of the kitchen with a sandwich. "You seen Sam?"

"He went out." Kevin shrugged, taking a bite from his sandwich.

"Where?" Angela's brows furrowed in confusion.

"I don't know." He shrugged. "You notice he's doing that a lot?"

Dean and Angela shared a thoughtful look.

"Yeah," Dean mumbled.

Kevin shrugged again and walked out as Dean's phone started ringing. Dean answered the phone and put it on speaker.

"Yeah." He greeted.

 _"Dean, I don't have a lot of time, so listen,"_ Castiel started. _"The leader of the opposition is an angel named Malachi."_

"How do you know that?" Dean questioned.

 _"He had me. I, uh, I was tortured."_ Castiel replied. _"But I got away."_

"How?" Angela asked.

_"I… I did what I had to do. I became what they've become. A barbarian."_

Angela sighed heavily. "What are you—Cas, where are you?"

 _"It's better I stay away."_ He replied. _"They're gonna want me even more now. But I'm gonna be alright. I… I got my grace back. Well, not mine per se, but it'll do."_

Dean's brows furrowed. "Wait, you're—you're back? You got your mojo?"

 _"I'm not sure."_ Castiel sighed _. "But I am an angel."_

"And you're okay with that?" Angela asked.

 _"Angela, if we're going to war, I need to be ready,"_ Castiel stressed.

"Cas." Angela sighed.

 _"Wait,"_ he interjected. _"There's more."_

Dean and Angela shared confused looks.

"What?" Dean questioned.

_"Didn't you say Sam was healed by an angel named Ezekiel?"_

"Uh… Yeah, why?"

Castiel sighed heavily. _"Ezekiel is dead."_

Angela practically froze. "What?"

 _"He died when the angels fell,"_ Castiel explained.

Dean and Angela looked at each other with extremely concerned expressions.

~/~\~

Kevin was dozing over a book when Dean and Angela quickly approached.

"We need a spell. ASAP." Dean stressed.

Kevin shook himself awake. "Everyone always needs a spell, and it's always ASAP."

"Alright, listen to me, hon," Angela started. "An angel can't be expelled by another human. Okay, only by the host, right? But, what if there was a way to power down the angel, so that it wasn't in charge for a few seconds?"

"What?" Kevin's face scrunched up.

"For instance," Dean cut in. "If—if _hypothetically_ , we wanted to speak with the vessel but not have the squatter listen in."

"Why?" Kevin raised his brows.

"Why?" Dean scoffed. "Kevin, we've got tons of possessed humans out there. You with us? And when the angels kill each other off, the humans are taking it in the teeth. So, what if we wanted to clue the human in so that he, or she, could spit the angel out? That would be a good thing, right?"

"Uh… yeah?" Kevin shrugged.

"Okay." Dean nodded. "So, hit the tablet. Let's go!"

"Now?" Kevin sighed.

"Yesterday, Cinderella!" Dean snapped.

~/~\~

"Alright, so this masterpiece we just painted—it's gonna work, right?" Dean asked, brows raised.

"The sigils are supposed to briefly hobble the possessing angel," Kevin explained. "If the info's correct."

"Wait, what?" Dean frowned.

"I only had time to get a little from the tablet." Kevin defended. "The rest came from an old Men of Letters book. As soon as your blood touches the ignition sigil, the spell kicks in," he added. "Guys, what's going on?"

"We told you, hon," Angela replied.

"You told me theoretically." He corrected. "We just painted sigils in the storeroom. What the hell?"

"You're gonna have to trust us, okay, trust that we told you everything that we can for now," Dean replied. "Can you do that?"

"I always trust you." Kevin sighed. "And I always end up screwed."

"Oh, come on." Dean scoffed. "Always? Not always."

~/~\~

Dean and Angela walked in as Sam put a case of beer away in the fridge.

"Hey, babe, where've you been?" Angela asked.

"Hey." Sam greeted. "Beer run."

"Long beer run," Dean muttered, earning a chuckle from Sam. "Can we talk?"

"Yeah. Uh… sure."

~/~\~

Dean and Angela ushered Sam into the storeroom.

"This sounds serious," Sam commented.

Dean gently shut the door and pulled out a knife to slash his palm. He slapped his hand against the door; a flare of light emitting from the sigil. Sam turned around, clearly startled.

"What's going on? What are you doing?" Sam questioned.

"Baby, we have to tell you some stuff fast. It's gonna piss you off." Angela stood in front of him.

"Okay." Sam nodded.

Angela ran a hand through her hair nervously. "Those trials _really_ messed you up."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Yes, I know that, babe—

"No, you don't." she interrupted. "I mean messed you up like _almost dead,_ baby. And well, t-that _really_ messed me up, and it messed Dean up, so w-we made a move," her voice wavered. "A tough move about you without talking it over because you were in a coma."

"Wait, what?" Sam frowned deeply. "When?"

"You were in the hospital, okay," her voice cracked slightly. "And they said you were gonna die, baby."

Sam squared his shoulders. "Angela, what did you do?"

Angela's lip trembled slightly and she looked up at her husband. "I let an angel in."

"In what?" Sam questioned.

"In you." She whispered, trying not to cry. "He said he could heal you and he is."

"He's still in me?" Sam's eyes widened. "Wait. That's impossible, Angie. That couldn't happen. I never invited him in."

Angela looked up at the ceiling, trying to keep the tears at bay. "I tricked you into saying yes. It seemed like the only way, Sam."

Sam sighed heavily and closed his eyes. "So… Again. You and Dean thought I couldn't handle something, so you took over!"

"No, we did what we had to do." Dean cut in. "You would've never agreed to it, and you would've died."

"Well, maybe I would've liked the choice, at least!" Sam snapped.

"We can do this—later. You can—you can kick our asses all you want." Dean replied. "Right now, we got bigger problems."

"Bigger?" Sam raised his brows.

"The angel lied to us. Okay? He—he's not who he said he was." Angela replied. "He said his name was Ezekiel. Cool guy, according to Cas, but it's _not_ Ezekiel."

"Who is he?" Sam demanded.

"We don't know," Dean admitted. "Apparently, Ezekiel is dead. Whoever this guy is can end you in a heartbeat if he wants to, so you have got to dump him."

"Are you hearing what we're saying?" Angela asked. "I think you're well enough now, but you have to expel him, baby. Sam? Sam—

Sam stormed past Dean and Angela, clearly angry.

"Hey!" Dean exclaimed.

Sam turned around and swung a punch at Dean. Dean went down, and Angela knelt down next to him, checking on him. Sam stormed out, furious.

"Sam!" Angela exclaimed to the empty doorway.

~/~\~

Dean and Angela rounded the corner into the main room, as Kevin screamed in pain. The two hunters saw a white light flooding out of Kevin through his eyes.

"No!" Angela screamed.

"No! No! No!" Dean yelled. "Kevin?!"

They started to run forward as Kevin's lifeless body dropped to the floor.

Gadreel extended a hand and held the two hunters off.

"Sam? Baby?" Angela asked, tears in her eyes.

"There is no more Sam." Gadreel replied flatly.

"No." Angela shook her head in denial.

"But, I played him convincingly, I thought," Gadreel added.

"How did you…" Dean trailed off.

"I heard you talking with Kevin Tran tonight." Gadreel replied. "Alter a sigil… even the slightest… Alter the spell." He held up his hand to show the dust of markings on his fingers. "Sorry about Kevin, but ultimately… it's for the best. I did what I had to do."

Gadreel placed a yellow card on Kevin's chest. He turned to look at Dean and Angela, possibly feeling guilty.

"You better kill me now." Angela glared at the angel. "Because if you don't, I _swear_ … I will hunt you down. And I will get my husband back."

Gadreel just stared at her for a moment before walking off. Dean and Angela were released from Gadreel's invisible hold.

"Kevin?" Dean asked.

Angela crawled over to the Prophet, cupping his face in her hands. "Kevin? Honey, _please_. Kevin."


	19. Road Trip Part 1

_Lebanon, Kansas_

Dean and Angela were in the main room of the bunker packing up various weapons. Grace sat on her play mat, leaning forward to grab her ball.

"Dean. Angela." Castiel greeted suddenly.

"Cas." Angela breathed, immediately going over to hug him tightly.

"Look at you, all suited up and back in the game," Dean commented.

"I, um… I came as soon as you called. I was…" Castiel trailed off as he looked around.

One of the lamps was broken on the floor and books and papers were strewn about. Castiel's brows furrowed in concern.

"What happened?" the angel asked. "What's wrong?"

Angela pulled away and wrapped her arms around herself. Dean stopped packing his bag and sighed heavily.

~/~\~

Castiel, Dean, and Angela sat at the table. Dean had Grace in his lap.

"Sammy was dying." Angela murmured. "What were we supposed to do?"

Castiel sighed. "You let an angel possess him?"

"He said it was the only way, and we… _I_ believed him." Angela explained. "Now Sammy's gone. Kevin's…"

"I'm sorry," Castiel replied sincerely.

Angela laughed humorlessly. "If only 'sorry' did anything. We have to find the son of a bitch."

Castiel looked between the two hunters. "If the angel possessing Sam isn't Ezekiel, then who is it?"

"A dead man walking." Dean retorted.

"What, you're gonna destroy him?" Castiel asked skeptically.

"Damn right." Dean nodded.

"You kill an angel, its vessel dies, too."

"Think we don't know that?" Angela's voice wavered. "If we don't…" she pursed her lips, not even wanting to entertain the idea. "If we don't end Sam and that halo burns him out and I… God I was so damn stupid." Her voice cracked.

Dean held Angela's hand with his free one, squeezing her hand comfortingly.

"You were stupid for the right reasons," Castiel assured sincerely.

"Yeah, like that matters." Angela scoffed, tears in her eyes.

"It does. Sometimes that's all that matters." Castiel replied firmly. "Listen to me. Sam is strong. If he knew an angel was possessing him, he could fight. He could cast the angel out."

"Maybe." Dean sighed. "But as far as we know, he's in the dark. I don't know how we clue him in."

Castiel paused for a moment. "Do you remember Alfie?"

"The kid angel? Yeah." Dean shrugged. "Why?"

"Before he died, he told me the demons were able to dig into his mind, access his coding," Castiel explained. "We might be able to do that here. Might be able to—to bypass the angel and talk directly to Sam."

"And you think that would work?" Angela asked.

"I don't know," Castiel admitted. "But I think we should try."

"Okay." Dean nodded. "Um, where do we start?"

~/~\~

Dean, Angela, and Castiel walked into the dungeon. Angela carried Grace in her arms, who was babbling nonsensically.

"Hello, boys. Angela." Crowley greeted with a smirk.

"Here's the deal—you're gonna tell us how to hack an angel, and I'm gonna give you some of the good stuff." Dean held up a syringe of blood. "Human blood, fresh from the tap. Word is you're jonesing for it."

"Please." Crowley scoffed. "I'll pass."

"What do you want, then?" Castiel demanded.

"Well, for starters… A massage." Crowley replied. "Between the sitting and the shackles, a body gets a little stiff."

"Yeah, I ain't rubbing you." Dean retorted.

"God, no. Get Kevin." Crowley replied. "His tiny fists can really work wonder—

"Kevin is dead." Castiel interrupted.

"Oh. I'm sorry to hear that," Crowley replied.

"Don't pretend you care. You tried to _kill_ him." Castiel replied harshly.

"I told him this was gonna happen." Crowley sighed. "I was the only person who tried to warn him. I told him to run."

"From what?" Angela questioned.

"You," Crowley replied bluntly. "How many times am I gonna have to say this? People in your general vicinity don't have much in the way of a life-span. Now, I can't teach you how to crack open an angel. It's more… art than science. But I can do it for you. All I ask in return is a little field trip. Dying for some fresh air. Chains on, naturally."

"No," Dean replied immediately.

"No?" Crowley raised his brows. "Of course not. Because if I'm plan 'A,' I'm sure you have a totally viable, much better plan 'B'."

Dean and Angela shared a look, and Castiel pulled them aside.

"You can't be considering this." The angel frowned.

"With the chains on, he can't do anything." Dean shrugged.

"It's Crowley," Castiel muttered. "He can always do something."

"Cas, I hate the idea of working with Crowley, trust me," Angela assured. "But… we kinda need him right now."

"Why don't you get moose, Bambi?" Crowley chimed in. "I'm sure he can weigh in."

Angela clenched her jaw slightly, catching Crowley's attention.

 _"Unless…"_ he smirked. "Unless, of course, you can't. That's why you're here, isn't it? The poor giant baby's in trouble again, isn't he?"

"Are you done?" Angela glared.

"Depends." Crowley shrugged. "Do we have a deal?"

"Yeah," Angela replied.

"Excellent." Crowley smiled. "When do we leave?"

"Soon as I can scrounge up a ride," Dean replied with a huff.

"Well, I have a vehicle." Castiel sighed. "It stopped a few miles from here, inexplicably."

~/~\~

A lady picked up her dog as Castiel, Crowley, Angela, and Dean walked down the street. Angela was carrying Grace while Castiel carried a car seat. Crowley's cuffs were covered by his jacket folded over his arms. They approached a cream-colored 1978 Lincoln Continental.

"Really?" Crowley raised his brows at Castiel. "What are you, a pimp?"

"I like it," Castiel muttered.

Dean attempted to start the car, failing. "Yeah, it's out of gas."

"Riddle me this, boy wonder," Crowley started as Dean started filling the tank. "Why do you need the wheels?"

Castiel narrowed his eyes. "When you betray us, I'll be the one to carve out your heart."

"Oh, Cas, such a flirt," Crowley smirked.

"Cas, why don't you set up the car seat," Angela suggested.

Castiel did as he was told as Dean finished filling the tank.

"Alright. Let's go." He sighed.

"Shotgun." Crowley smiled victoriously.

"Uh, wrong. You're in the back." Dean replied.

Castiel smirked at the demon and stepped to the front.

"Hey—you, too," Dean noted. "Keep an eye on him and look after Grace."

Crowley smirked at Castiel and got in the back as Angela buckled Grace up. Castiel rolled his eyes and followed.

"Hey. Watch the leg." Crowley complained as Angela sat up front.

"You're on my side," Castiel argued.

"Boys," Angela warned. "Behave."

~/~\~

Castiel, Crowley, Angela, and Dean sat in the lobby of a fancy office building. Grace squirmed restlessly from her place in Angela's lap.

"Your source is in here?" Dean asked Crowley.

"And she can track anything you need, even our little lost Samantha," Crowley replied.

"How?" Castiel questioned.

"Well, this place isn't really… this. It's a front for an N.S.A. listening post." Crowley explained.

"What are they listening for?" Castiel's brows furrowed.

"Everything." Crowley shrugged. "The U.S. government is quite the voyeur these days. So, I planted one of my best and let her go to work."

"Looking for terrorists?" Castiel raised his brows.

Crowley rolled his eyes. "Looking for marks, slow boat."

Two security guards walked over to the group.

"Mr. Crowley? She'll see you now."

Castiel, Dean, and Angela stood up to join him.

"Uh, just Mr. Crowley." The guard corrected.

"I'll be listening to every word you say," Castiel warned.

"Promise?" Crowley smirked.

~/~\~

"Hear anything?" Angela asked.

"No." Castiel sighed. "The room Crowley's in has been warded."

"Awesome." Dean rolled his eyes. "That's friggin' awesome."

~/~\~

Crowley walked down the stairs and handed Dean a paper.

"Your phallus on wheels just ran a red light in Somerset, Pennsylvania, 10 minutes ago."

"Let's go." Dean pursed his lips.

"The four amigos ride again," Crowley smirked.

"He's not my amigo," Castiel grumbled.

~/~\~

_Somerset, Pennsylvania_

Dean, Angela, and Castiel walked down the street. Dean carried Grace and stopped next to the Impala, running his free hand over the hood of the car. Angela walked into the house alone and saw Abner with his throat slit on the floor. She heard the sound of running water, and followed it to the kitchen. Gadreel was washing the blood off his hands in the sink.

"You should not have come here, Angela." He noted without bothering to turn around.

"You killed my friend, then you take my husband, and you think I'm gonna let that stand?" Angela retorted.

Gadreel finally turned around, staring down at Angela. "I allowed you and Dean to live."

"Mistake." Angela clenched her jaw. "I told you what would happen if you didn't kill me."

Angela lunged for Gadreel, but he used his angel force to knock her back into a nearby bookcase; knocking her unconscious. As Gadreel stepped towards her, he heard Castiel and Dean behind him. As he swung around Castiel delivered a knockout punch and Gadreel crumbled to the floor. Dean immediately rushed over to Angela.


	20. Road Trip Part 2

Gadreel, Dean, Angela, Crowley, and Castiel were in an abandoned warehouse. Angela held Grace in her arms. Gadreel was tied to a chair with warded handcuffs and was in a chin and head restraint. Gadreel started to regain consciousness.

"Welcome to the party, pal." Dean glared. "Cas, how we lookin'?"

"Most of Sam's internal burns have healed. I should be able to fix the rest." Castiel explained. "What's your name?" he asked Gadreel. "I thought I knew every angel in Heaven, but I've never seen you."

"Why would I tell you anything?" Gadreel sneered.

"Well, I don't give a damn who you are." Angela glared. "You need to get out—now!"

"And if I don't?" Gadreel countered.

"Then you and I will have a lovely little playdate." Crowley cut in.

"Even bound, I can rip this body apart. Tell them, Castiel." Gadreel smirked.

"You do, you die." Angela retorted.

"You want this to end?" Gadreel smirked. "Go ahead. Put a blade through your husband's heart. Leave your daughter without a father—the very thing you were trying to avoid."

Angela clenched her jaw and instinctively pulled Grace closer to her.

"If it makes you feel better," Gadreel continued. "I have Sam locked away in a dream. As far as he knows, you're working a case right now."

"Why are you doing this, huh?" Dean glared. "We _fought_ together. Angie and I _trusted_ you. We thought you were one of the good guys!"

"I am doing what I have to do." Gadreel replied.

"Well, so are we," Angela replied.

Dean nodded to Crowley who got up and picked up a large thick needle from a tray and moved toward Gadreel.

"So am I," Crowley muttered.

Crowley stuck the needle into Gadreel's temple and started to move it around. Gadreel screamed in pain. Dean's face hardened and checked his watch while Angela closed her eyes tightly. After a few hours, both Dean and Angela finally walked away suddenly. Castiel, concerned, followed after them.

"Hey." Castiel greeted softly.

"We couldn't watch that anymore," Dean muttered.

"I understand." Castiel nodded. "It's not Sam, but… it's still Sam."

"Pretty much, yeah." Angela's voice cracked as she fought back tears. "How are you doing, Cas?"

Castiel's brows furrowed in surprise. "You want to talk about me now?"

"I want to talk about anything that's not a demon sticking needles into my husband's brain." Angela chocked out a sob.

Dean immediately wrapped his arms around Angela and looked at Castiel. "Humor us, man. How you doing?"

"Uh… I'm okay." Castiel replied.

"Good. Good." Dean nodded. "That's, uh… So, what, you just change the batteries out, power back up? It's that easy?"

"It wasn't easy, but I didn't have a choice." Castiel sighed.

"Yeah." Dean nodded. "Well, that's usually how it goes. Cas… I'm sorry."

"About what?" Castiel frowned.

"Kickin' you out of the bunker. That's, uh… You know, not telling you about Sam." Dean sighed.

"You and Angela thought his life was at stake," Castiel replied.

"Yeah, we got played." Angela scoffed.

"I thought I was saving Heaven. I got played, too." Castiel replied.

Dean smiled a weak smile. "So, you're sayin' we're a couple of dumbasses?"

"I prefer the word 'trusting'." Castiel smiled gently. "Less dumb. Less ass."

"Laverne! Alvinia! Shirley!" Crowley called from the other room. "Get in here!"

Dean, Angela, and Castiel immediately rushed back into the room.

"Pinhead's out cold, but watch this," Crowley commented.

He moved two of the needles stuck in Gadreel's left temple. Gadreel sucked in a breath and started to speak in Enochian.

"Zir noco iad Gadreel. Zir noco iad Gadreel."

"What's he saying?" Dean's brows furrowed.

"His name. _Gadreel."_ Castiel frowned deeply.

"Does that mean something?" Dean questioned.

"Well, it's why I've never seen him," Castiel replied. "He's been imprisoned since the dawn of time. Gadreel was the sentry who allowed Lucifer into the garden."

"My, my. A celebrity." Crowley smirked.

"Wait, the garden?" Dean raised his brows. "Like _Eden?_ Adam and Eve? Fig-leaves garden?"

"It's his fault—all of it. The corruption of man, demons, Hell. God _left_ because of him. The archangels—the apocalypse. If he hadn't been so weak, none of it would have happened." Castiel snarled. "You _ruined_ the universe, you damn son of a bitch!" he shook the unconscious angel.

Angela immediately handed Grace to Dean and grabbed Castiel gently.

"Cas! Cas! Hey!" she explained.

Castiel turned around, breathing heavily. "Angela, he—

"I get it." Angela interrupted. "But you have to relax. Please, Cas."

Crowley continued to probe needles into Gadreel's head.

"What's taking so long?" Dean demanded as Grace started to cry.

"Other than the fact that I'm trying to unravel a living, multidimensional knot of pure energy, not much," Crowley muttered.

Suddenly, Gadreel gasped in a breath and opened his eyes.

"Sam…" Angels whispered hopefully.

"It won't work." Gadreel taunted, smirking at Angela. "You will _never_ find Sam. Go ahead. Poke and prod. I can sit in this chair for _years_ and watch you fail over and over again. I've endured much worse than this, Angela. So… much… worse. And I have all the time in the world."

"Shut up!" Dean snapped. "Alright. Plan 'B'. Cas, you got to possess him."

"What?" Castiel's brows furrowed.

"Do it now!" Dean exclaimed. "Get in there, tell Sam what's going on, and help him kick that lying son of a bitch out!"

"It might work." Castiel sighed. "But I _can't_ possess a vessel without permission."

Crowley cleared his throat and raised his hand as a volunteer.

"No." Angela shook her head. "Not happening."

"Don't be daft, Bambi. Demons can take what they want." Crowley replied. "I can burrow into that rat's nest of a head. I can wake Sam up. Just call me plan 'C'."

Castiel frowned. "You can't—

"You got a better idea?" Dean sighed heavily. "What about the angel?"

"I'll work fast," Crowley assured.

"And if he finds you?" Angela asked.

"I'll run. I'm not dying for you lot. Of course, if I do this, you're gonna have to…"

"Take the leash off. Yeah, we know." Dean muttered.

"And it _stays_ off. I save Sam, I leave here a free man." Crowley retorted. "Do we have a deal?"

Angela pursed her lips. "Cas, burn off Sam's tattoo."

"Angela." Castiel frowned.

"Do it." Dean nodded. "Do it."

Castiel walked over to Gadreel and pulled down his shirt collar to reveal his warding tattoo. In a blaze of light, Castiel removed the tattoo.

Dean looked at Crowley. "If you mess with Sam, if you try anything—

"I keep my bargains," Crowley assured. "Besides, I don't want to be inside Sam any longer than I have to. I'm not one for sloppy seconds."

"When you find him, say 'Poughkeepsie.'" Angela instructed. "It's our go word. It means 'drop everything and run.'"

"Fine. While I'm gone, hands off the suit." Crowley replied.

"I will destroy you." Gadreel glared at Crowley.

"Eat me."

A cloud of red demon smoke shot from Crowley's mouth and rocketed into Gadreel's mouth.

~/~\~

"A demon and an angel walk into my husband," Angela muttered. "Sounds like a bad joke."

"If this doesn't work…" Castiel started.

"It'll work," Angela muttered. "It has to work, Cas."

~/~\~

Sam was working at a table in the bunker. "I mean, it doesn't make any sense," he flipped through a book. "Why is this ghoul only chomping on dead cheerleaders?"

"Hey, you want a beer?!" Dean called from the other room.

"No, I'm fine," Sam replied with a sigh.

"Not bad," Crowley said as he looked around.

Sam jumped from his chair in shock. "Angie! Dean!"

"Poughkeepsie," Crowley replied.

Sam stilled on the alert. "How do you know that word?"

"Because Angela and Dean sent me, Bullwinkle," Crowley replied. "I'll make this quick—you've been possessed by an angel. He's got you packed away in some dusty corner of your own mind, and I'm heard to break you out."

Sam narrowed his eyes skeptically. "Seriously?"

"Fine." Crowley huffed. "We'll do this the fun way."

He picked up Dean's gun from the table and shot Sam in the chest. Sam shook in shock, but then realized he was fine and not even bleeding.

"See?" Crowley shrugged. "Not real. Like I said. I know how possession works, Sam. You've seen everything that he's seen, even if you can't remember. That's what I need you to do. I need you to remember."

Sam closed his eyes and was bombarded with memories from when Gadreel was in control. His face crumbled when he saw Gadreel killing Kevin.

"Did I kill Kevin?" he whispered.

"No, _you_ didn't. He did." Crowley replied firmly. "You need to take control, Sam. Blow it up and cast that punk-ass holy roller out!"

Sam looked up and saw Gadreel standing behind Crowley.

"What?" Crowley frowned. "Oh, bollocks."

"Hello, Sam." Gadreel greeted.

"Who are you?" Sam demanded.

"His name is Gadreel, the original chump." Crowley sassed as he turned around to face the angel.

"Was a chump. And now?" Gadreel glared. "I'm going to be the one that leads my kind back to Heaven. I'm going to be a hero. But you, demon, for all your chatter, you will always be a coward. You should be running."

Crowley punched Gadreel in the face and Gadreel swung back, hurling him over the table. Gadreel started to kick him and Sam came to his rescue only to be thrown back over the table himself. Gadreel straddled Sam and started to strangle him.

"Give up, boy." He snarled. "You're not strong enough."

"Take control, Sam!" Crowley exclaimed. "Cast him out!"

"Get out of my—

"You sure you want me to go?" Gadreel sneered. "Maybe I'm the only thing holding you together. I leave, you might die."

Sam grabbed a blunt object a hit Gadreel on the head, grabbing the upper hand. Sam stood and pressed his foot down on Gadreel's neck.

"I said get… the hell… out!" Sam roared.

~/~\~

White angel smoke flew from Sam's body in the warehouse as Dean, Castiel, and Angela dodged the brilliant light. Dean clutched Grace protectively.

~/~\~

Red smoke flew out of Sam's mouth and into Crowley's body. Sam gasped and regained consciousness. Dean, Angela, and Castiel ran to him.

"Sammy!" Angela breathed out.

"Sam!" Dean exclaimed. "Cas?"

"I'm fine. Thanks for asking." Crowley muttered indignantly.

"Sam, are you okay?" Castiel asked as he removed the needles from Sam's head.

"Cas?" Sam asked groggily.

Headlights flashed in the window and Castiel checked it out as Angela and Dean un-cuffed Sam.

"It's Abaddon," Castiel commented urgently.

"Go," Crowley instructed. "The back door. I'll handle this."

"Oh, 'cause you're such a good guy?" Dean scoffed.

"Right now, I'm the goodest guy you got." Crowley countered.

"Thank you," Angela replied sincerely. "For saving Sam… thank you."

"This don't make us square," Dean added. "I see you again—

"I'm dead. Yes, I know. I love you, too." Crowley replied.

Castiel held Grace while Angela and Dean helped Sam out the back door.

"Pleasure doing business with you, as always," Crowley called out as they left.

~/~\~

Castiel, Angela, Sam, and Dean were on a long dock in the pouring rain. Sam held Grace in her arms as Castiel healed the wounds from the needles.

"You feel better?" Castiel asked gently.

"A little, yeah." Sam nodded.

"It'll take time to fully heal you," Castiel explained. "We'll have to do it in stages."

Sam nodded in agreement but kept looking unsteadily at Dean and Angela. They approached Sam with reservation while Castiel backed away to a respectful distance.

"Alright," Dean sighed. "Let us hear it."

"What do you want me to say—that I'm pissed?" Sam asked. "Okay. I am. I'm pissed. You two lied to me. _Again."_

Angela looked up at her husband, tears in her eyes. "If you want to be pissed at anyone… be pissed at me… Dean didn't… I was the one who let Gadreel possess you. I didn't have a choice, Sam."

"I was ready to die, Angela!" Sam snapped emotionally.

"I know." Angela nodded, her voice shaking. "I know. But… I—I wouldn't let you."

"So, what?" Sam scoffed. "You decide to trick me into being possessed by some… _psycho_ angel?"

"He saved your life." Angela's voice cracked with emotion.

"So, what?" Sam shrugged. "I was willing to die. And now… Kevin…"

"No. That is _not_ on you." Angela replied firmly. "I was the one who let Gadreel possess you, Kevin's death is on my hands."

Sam pursed his lips. "I just… I can't, Angela. I need some time."

Angela's brows furrowed in confusion. "What… What are you saying?"

"I'm saying you and Dean should go," Sam replied firmly. "I can't… I need some time away from you."

"Sam…" Dean started.

"Just go," Sam demanded.

Angela's bottom lip quivered. "I love you, Sam."

Sam just nodded silently in response. Angela pressed a kiss to Grace's temple before she walked away with Dean.

"You okay, kid?" Dean asked softly once they reached the Impala, knowing the answer.

Angela shook her head as she slid into the passenger's seat. Angela's body shook as she sobbed violently. Dean wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulder, pulling her close before he started the car.


	21. First Born Part 1

Dean and Angela sat at a dingy-looking bar. Angela stared at her phone, hoping for a text back from Sam. Dean watched a pretty waitress hustle by. He smirked at her as Crowley appeared.

"So… is that boudoir smile for me?" Crowley asked, appearing next to Dean.

Both Dean and Angela startled, drawing the demon knife and an angel blade from their jackets.

"At least buy me a drink first." Crowley scoffed.

Dean narrowed his eyes. "I said the next time I see you—

"Dead. Yes, rings a bell," Crowley rolled his eyes. "But let's not dwell on the past, shall we? This bar is a bust. That waitress is trouble with a capital VD, and your prey, Gadreel, has left the building. So, it's time to move on to more _pressing_ matters, like destroying Abaddon."

"Yeah, good luck with that," Angela muttered. "The Knights of Hell aren't exactly the dying kind."

"But there is something that can kill a knight. The weapon that the archangels used to execute them—the First Blade." Crowley explained.

Dean and Angela shared confused, but curious looks.

"We've never heard of it," Dean muttered. "Can I kill you now?"

"I've been chasing the blade for decades," Crowley continued. "The closest I got to it was when one of my droogs—Smitty—got wind of a protégé demon of Abaddon's who claimed knowledge of the blade. Sadly," he sighed. "Before Smitty could nab the guy, a hunter by the name of John Winchester nabbed the protégé. I'm here to see if there's anything in the John Winchester memorial library that might lead us to the First Blade—to killing Abaddon."

"You want to _hunt?_ With _us?"_ Angela chuckled.

"I do love a good buddy comedy, Bambi," Crowley smirked.

Dean scoffed slightly and reluctantly took John's journal out of his jacket and set it on the table. He rummaged through the pages.

"Oh, yeah. Here it is." Dean muttered. "Yeah, he picked up a protégé who had bones with Abaddon, but that's about all it says in here."

"What do those numbers in the margins means?" Crowley inquired.

"None of your business." Dean snapped.

Crowley rolled his eyes. "You're gonna play hard to get? We have time for a montage?"

Dean sighed heavily. "It's a code—one of my dad's storage lockers. He _may_ have put something about the case there."

"And what does the 'T' next to the numbers means?" Crowley asked.

"Not a clue," Dean replied.

"Fine. Let's go find daddy's man cave, then, shall we?"

"And how do we know this isn't a trap?" Angela sighed.

"You… don't." Crowley shrugged. "That's what makes it fun."

Crowley shot the two hunters a wily grin and headed out the door. Dean and Angela shared a looked before following the demon.

~/~\~

_Lebanon, Kansas_

Grace sat in her highchair next to Castiel in the main room of the bunker. Castiel went to take a bite of his PB & J sandwich when the door opened above him.

"Mm." Castiel grimaced, clearly not enjoying the sandwich.

Grace giggled at her uncle's displeased face as she chewed on her teething toy.

"Hey." Sam greeted as he walked down the stairs. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to Grace's head. "Hi, sweet girl."

Grace squealed happily and smiled up at her father.

"Tastes like… molecules," Castiel muttered.

Sam's brows furrowed in confusion. "What? What are you talking about?"

"When I was human, you know, I had to eat _constantly_. It was kind of annoying." Castiel explained.

"Yeah, a lot of human things are pretty annoying." Sam agreed.

"But… I enjoyed the taste of food—particularly peanut butter with grape jelly." Castiel continued. "Not jam. Jam I found unsettling."

Sam sat on the edge of the table. "So, what? Now you can't taste PB and J?"

"No, I-I taste _every_ molecule." Castiel sighed.

"Not the sum of its parts, huh?" Sam asked.

"It's overwhelming. It's disgusting." Castiel stared longingly at the sandwich. "I miss you, PB and J." he sighed as he stood up. "We need to continue your healing. We're almost done."

Castiel put to fingers on Sam's forehead and started to heal him. Suddenly, he looked a little concerned.

"What?" Sam asked with a frown.

"Nothing." Castiel lied.

Sam slapped his hand away. "You're a terrible liar."

Castiel almost looked offended. "That is not true. I once deceived _and_ betrayed you, Dean, and Angela."

"Okay, that's not the point." Sam sighed. "Cas, what's wrong?"

"I noticed something," he started. "It's, uh… it's resonating inside you."

"What?" Sam pressed.

"Something angelic," Castiel answered.

"Okay, uh, what the hell does that mean?" Sam asked.

"Maybe we should call Angela and Dean," Castiel suggested.

"No." Sam clenched his jaw slightly. "We'll handle this."

~/~\~

Dean, Angela, and Crowley walked into John's storage locker. Dean removed the hood over Crowley's head.

"Is all this really necessary?" Crowley huffed. "I mean, I've been inside Sam. We're practically family."

Dean's eyes flashed with rage and he shoved Crowley up against a shelf. "Listen to me. We are the _furthest_ thing from family. You got that, dickbag?"

Angela gently rested a hand on one of Dean's arms, and he stepped away from the demon.

"Oh, yeah," Crowley muttered.

"Now, you want to hunt?" Angela raised her brows. "Let's hunt."

Dean opened a small gate and he and Angela walked through. Crowley went to follow, but realized that the entrance was guarded by a Devil's Trap. He rolled his eyes.

"I'll be right here." He called out as he looked around. "So, what do you call this décor, anyway? Rustic obsessive? Paranoid deco?"

"Here we go," Dean pulled out a file. "Looks like my dad was working with another hunter when he nabbed Abaddon's pet." He held up a photo of a woman.

"I guess the 'T' didn't stand for terrible father," Crowley muttered. "It stood for—

"Tara." Dean finished. "Doesn't ring a bell. Alright, looks like they interrogated the demon. Then they exorcized him. But not before he mentioned the First Blade."

"I love it when I'm right." Crowley smiled smugly.

"Yeah, well, the rest of the file's empty, genius." Dean sassed.

"What? Didn't they teach note-taking at Hunters Hogwarts?" Crowley raised his brows.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Let's go see if Tara's still kicking."

~/~\~

"I've found, well, something," Castiel started. "It's a detail about when angels leave their vessels… I think. It's, uh, Enochian, which can be a bit flowery. 'And the departed shall remain, and the remains shall be the departed'."

"Okay, so, when the angel leaves a vessel, they leave behind a piece of themselves," Sam replied. "Like, uh… like an angelic fingerprint."

"Whatever you want to call it, this piece of the departed contains grace," Castiel explained.

Sam's brows shot up. "Wait, you're saying there's angelic grace inside of me?"

"Yes. But it's fading each time I heal you." Castiel explained.

"Okay," Sam sighed. "Is that good or bad?"

"Well, it's harmless," Castiel assured. "But the grace itself… might be helpful."

He set down the book and picked up a file titled _'On the Inner Workings of Angels'._

"According to this, we may be able to use the grave that remains inside you to track Gadreel… if we can extract it."

"How would we do that?" Sam asked curiously.

"Well… Painfully." Castiel held up a photo of a syringe with a 4-inch long needle. "The Men of Letters believed that you could perform a tracking spell with extracted grave, but they were never able to test the theory."

"Well, they didn't have a guinea pig, but we do," Sam muttered.

Castiel looked up at Sam, confused. "You have a guinea pig? Where?"

"Me, Cas," Sam replied. "I'm the guinea pig."

"Oooh." Castiel nodded, looking back at the photo. "Any idea where that is?"

~/~\~

Dean, Angela, and Crowley walked into a quaint pawn shop. A slightly older, blonde, fit woman was leaning on the counter readings a comic book. She looked up when she heard the door open.

"Tara?" Dean asked.

"That's what the sign says." She retorted. "Can I help you?"

"Yeah." Dean nodded. "Hope so. John Winchester ring a bell? I'm his son."

"You Sam or Dean?" she eyed him.

"Dean."

Suddenly, behind the counter, Tara winced and grabbed her right knee.

"Well, didn't you grow up pretty." She commented. "Still in the family business?"

"Yeah, born and raised. Listen, a bunch of years back, you worked a job with my dad," he explained. "Well, me, my sister-in-law, and our, uh, associate h—

Tara raised a shotgun and aimed it at Dean, Angela, and Crowley. "Ever since '92, I get a painful little tickle in what's left of my knee whenever a demon is around."

"Hunters. So trusting." Crowley muttered sarcastically. "I'll go grab a latte while you get this sorted."

Crowley snapped his fingers to disappear, but nothing happened.

"Devil's trap under the knock-off Persian, jackass." Tara retorted.

Dean moved the rug with his boot and sighed. "Tara, listen, our, uh, associate—

"Friends— _besties,_ actually." Crowley cut in.

"Not helping." Angela rolled her eyes.

"Not caring," Tara replied.

"Look, I'm the King of Hell. They're Winchesters." Crowley sighed. "There's a reason why we're working together."

"Yeah," Tara scoffed. "It's called possession."

She grabbed a bottle of holy water and splashed it on Dean and Angela's faces. However, the two hunters just looked mildly annoyed.

"See? We're good. Okay?" Angela sighed. "Yes, you're right. He is a jackass, but he's helping us on this."

"Helping you with what?" Tara questioned.

"You and my old man found a demon who knew something about the First Blade," Dean explained. "We need to find that blade."

"Well, hell. You are as handsome as John. And as dumb, too, if you're looking for that old relic." Tara scoffed.

"We're hunting a Knight of Hell," Dean added.

"Why?" she raised her brows. "They're all dead."

"One came back—Abaddon." Angela sighed heavily.

Tara huffed and set a file down on the counter. "The demon said the archangels used a weapon that could kill the Knights of Hell. We're never heard of anything like the Knights of Hell or a First Blade. Your dad thought he was lying, trying to save himself," she explained. "We took him out, and we had a lovely weekend together. Then we went our separate ways. But I could never let the blade go. Something like that could really give a hunter an edge, you know? I looked all over the world—destroyed my knee and my life. And all I found?" she unlocked a wall safe and took out a tray full of ingredients. "A location spell for the blade that I could never finish. Couldn't find one ingredient—essence of Kraken."

"Kraken?" Crowley asked. "I got a warehouse full of Kraken essence in Belize. Break the trap, I can be there and back before you say, 'presto.'"

"Presto," Tara replied.

"I can help." He assured. "Dean? Angela?"

"He wants Abaddon as dead as we do," Dean assured.

"If your daddy could see you now," Tara muttered.

Tara walked around the counter and pushed back the rug with her foot. Then she took out her shotgun and shot the Devil's Trap, breaking the outer ring. Crowley suddenly disappeared.

"You know," she sighed. "Even if that blade is real, it ain't worth being bosom buddies with the King of Hell."

"Abaddon? Way worse." Dean replied. "We'll deal with Crowley after. Trust me."

"You sound just like your dad… when he said he'd call me," Tara smirked.

Dean was rather lost for words and Angela just raised her brows. Crowley reappeared, saving the hunters. He held a small jar in his hand.

"Shall we?" he smirked.

Dean, Angela, and Tara mixed the spell while Crowley looked on curiously. They lied out the map of the United States on the counter and Tara poured the liquid over it. Dean lit a match and it flamed up. The flamed spread to the outside corners of the map and then quickly burned away all of the map, except for the state of Missouri.

"Missouri. Figures." Tara muttered.

"Would you care to join us?" Crowley offered.

"Them? Anytime. You? Never." Tara replied.

"Thank you." Dean and Angela replied.

"Good luck," Tara replied sincerely. "You're gonna need it."

~/~\~

_Missouri_

The Impala pulled up to a little farmhouse, and Dean, Angela, and Crowley got out of the car. Crowley paused suddenly as they walked toward the house.

"Wait," he stopped the hunters.

"What?" Angela's brows furrowed in confusion.

"I'm feeling something," Crowley replied vaguely.

"What, cramps?" Dean sassed.

"I feel something dark."

"What, darker than you?" Dean scoffed.

Crowley was about to retort when he noticed a man in a beekeeper suit tending beehives over by the house.

"Oh no," he muttered. "We need to leave here now."

Angela rolled her eyes. "What, are you allergic to bees?"

"That's not a beekeeper," Crowley stressed. "That's the father of murder."

"Sorry," Dean frowned. "Who?"

"It's Cain."

Both Dean and Angela frowned deeply, glancing at each other in confusion.

"As in Cain and Abel?" Angela questioned.

"We need to be a world away from here—from him," Crowley stressed.

He turned to leave and almost ran right into Cain, who appeared behind him.

"You're not going anywhere," Cain replied firmly. "Crowley."

~/~\~

Dean, Angela, and Crowley sat inside Cain's house on a couch. Both Dean and Angela looked around, assessing their options while Crowley stared at the floor nervously.

"Why don't you just zap out of here?" Angela questioned.

"I'd never leave my domestic partners in crime," Crowley replied.

Dean snorted. "Yeah, like your heart grew three sizes. You _can't_ zap out of here, can you?"

"Cain's doing something to me." Crowley sighed.

"Well, it's not your day for getaways, is it?" Dean muttered. "Alright, so, tell us about this Cain."

"Well, after Cain killed Abel, he became a demon," Crowley replied.

Angela's brows furrowed. "What do you mean, 'became a demon'?"

"I mean he became the deadliest demon to walk the face of the Earth," Crowley replied. "Killed thousands. The best at being the worst. And then he just… Disappeared. Everyone thought he was dead, or, at least, hoped he was."

Cain walked into the room with a tea tray. "Do any of you keep bees? It's very relaxing. They're such noble creatures. And the honey? Well, I keep it right on the comb."

Cain set the tray down on the coffee table and handed Crowley a cup. Crowley took it, but his hands were shaking in fright, rattling the teacup.

"There you are," Cain muttered as he handed Dean and Angela cups of tea. "They're dying, you know. Without bees, mankind will cease to exist. So, what are the King of Hell and two Winchesters doing at my house?"

"You know who we are?" Angela asked, slightly surprised.

"I'm retired. I'm not dead." Cain took a sip from his teacup. "What I don't know is why you're looking for me—more importantly, how you found me."

"Ah, that's, uh, a funny story, really." Crowley stammered. "Bit of a misunderstanding. We really should—

Cain motioned with his hand, rendering Crowley speechless. "Shh."

"Oh, you gotta teach us how to do that," Angela muttered.

Cain tilted his head slightly. "Why are you here, Angela?"

"We're looking for a weapon the archangels used to kill the Knights of Hell," she started. "The First Blade. We need it to kill a Knight of Hell—Abaddon."

"Look, we get it," Dean added. "We're not here to get between you and the demonic AARP, but it's bad out there, and we're just looking to even the odds."

Cain narrowed his eyes. "One last time—how did you find me?"

"We didn't," Angela replied. "The location spell was for the blade. One-time deal."

"Anyone else know you're here?" Cain questioned.

"No." she replied smoothly.

~/~\~

"Well," Cain stood up. "It's been a pleasure having company, but once a century is enough for me. You can let yourselves out."

Angela stood up and followed after Cain. "Hey, listen, we're not leaving here without the Blade."

Cain eyed her slightly. "You have quite a reputation, Angela. I see the part about you being brave rings true."

"Well, what can I say?" she shrugged. "I'm an all-in kind of gal. Abaddon is the last Knight of Hell, and if you're out of the game, what the hell do you care if she dies?"

"If your friend here could talk," Cain nodded to Crowley. "He would tell you that I trained the Knights of Hell. I built that entire demonic order with my own hands—Abaddon included."

Dean glared at Crowley. "Well, that is information we could have used five minutes ago!"

Crowley gasped in explanation, still unable to talk.

"Well, here's something your friend _doesn't_ know," Cain continued. "That no one knows, in fact—outside of Abaddon. It wasn't the archangels that slaughtered the knights. It was me."

"Why did you turn on your own?" Angela questioned.

"Once again, I admire your bravery," Cain replied. "But if you'll excuse me, I have errands to run in town. Goodbye, Angela Winchester. Never return."

~/~\~

Dean, Angela, and Crowley walked out of the house.

"Well, that was lovely," Crowley commented sarcastically. "Can we leave the country now?"

"But you said the First Blade was our only shot at killing Abaddon," Angela argued. "This is the closest you've been to it. We're not leaving."

"Angie," Dean sighed heavily. "Maybe there's another way…"

"Angela, usually you're fairly reasonable…" Crowley started.

"Hey. He said he was going into town." Angela shrugged. "We wait till he's gone, come back, bust in, take what's ours. Got it?"

~/~\~

Sam and Castiel were walking down the bunker stairs. Castiel carried Grace, who was playing with the lapels of his trench coat.

"Sam, may I ask you a question?" Castiel asked.

"You just did," Sam replied with a chuckle.

"Can I ask you another question?"

"Well, technically, you—yeah, go ahead," Sam replied. "What's up?"

They stopped in the doorway to the hall and faced each other.

"Sam, the trials," Castiel started, earning a scoff from Sam. "You chose not to go through with them for a reason, didn't you? You chose to live rather than to sacrifice yourself. You, Angela, and Dean… You chose each other."

"Yeah, I did. We did." Sam nodded. "And then they… Angela made a choice for me."

Sam stalked off to the medical room. Castiel sighed heavily, following him.

"What they did—

"Look, it doesn't matter." Sam interrupted. "I could have put a stop to all this, Cas. I could have closed the Gates of Hell."

"Oh, Sam." Castiel sighed.

"Dean and Angela aren't here." Sam shrugged. "And if I can find Gadreel… I can fix this."

Sam set a box down on a table next to a gurney. He shrugged off his plaid button-up, leaving him in just a thin t-shirt.

"Now… being human means settling your debts." Sam handed Castiel a box as he sat on the gurney. "Let's start balancing the books."

~/~\~

Angela, Dean, and Crowley entered Cain's house sneakily.

"This is by far the dumbest idea you've ever had." Crowley hissed.

"Yeah, well, it's early." Angela shrugged.

Crowley peeked in the front room and then backed away. "Oh, there's nothing here. Shame. Let's go."

"Hey!" she snapped. "Sack up and start looking, okay? We don't have much time."

Angela and Dean looked around the living room. Angela noticed a picture on the fireplace mantel, and she picked it up. It was an old picture of a woman with the name 'Colette' on the bottom.

"Hold, on," Dean muttered, leaning over her shoulder. "Cain was wearing the same ring."


	22. First Born Part 2

Castiel walked back into the medical room, opting to put Grace down for a nap. Sam was lying on the gurney and Castiel started to prepare the large needle. He punctured the needle into the side of Sam's neck, causing the hunter to gasp in pain. Castiel's brows furrowed in concern.

"Now comes the part that will actually hurt," he warned. "I'm gonna begin the extraction."

Castiel slowly pulled back the plunger and the bottom of the syringe barrel filled with a tiny bit of angel grace. Sam struggled not to cry out from the pain.

"Is it working?" Sam gasped.

"Yeah." Castiel sighed heavily.

"But?" Sam raised his brows.

"I—I need to push the needle in deeper. We need more grace in order to cast the spell." Castiel explained.

"Okay." Sam nodded weakly. "Do it."

"Sam, if I get too close to—

"Dammit, Cas!" Sam snapped. "Just do it."

Castiel slowly and reluctantly pushed the needle deeper and started pulling back on the plunger again. Suddenly, Sam's body lurched, and he started having flashbacks to when Gadreel possessed him. Castiel pulled out the needle.

"What the hell was that?" Sam asked in shock.

"Your body is regressing to the state it was in before Gadreel," Castiel explained.

"Do we have enough grace for the summoning spell?" Sam asked curiously.

"Sam." Castiel sighed.

"Do we or not, Cas?" Sam repeated firmly.

"No," Castiel admitted.

"Then keep going," Sam commanded.

~/~\~

"Nothing." Crowley sighed, walking back into the main room. "Not even porn."

"Think we figured out why he went off the reservation so many years ago," Angela said, handing the picture of Colette to Crowley.

"Lovely. Little plain." The demon shrugged. "Who is she?"

"Cain had a similar ring on," Dean replied. "Father of murder got hitched."

Suddenly, the three of them looked up as they heard all the doors in the house lock.

"He's back," Dean muttered. "Come on."

They tried the front door, but it was solidly locked.

"Go!" Dean yelled.

Suddenly, Cain appeared behind them. He motioned to the picture that Crowley still held in his hands.

"That belongs to me."

"Sorry," Crowley handed over the photo. "Gorgeous, by the way."

Out of nowhere, headlights flashed from the driveway and Angela walked to a window and drew back the curtain.

"I don't suppose they're with you." She sighed.

"No," Cain replied.

"I guess we can't wait any longer!" the demon yelled from his truck. "Your friend Tara was _very_ helpful! Got downright chatty… After I peeled all her skin off. We don't want any trouble, Cain. Just want the so-called King and the Winchesters. I got a new master to impress, and I'm betting bagging those three will do just that."

"Master?" Dean asked Crowley.

"Abaddon." Crowley huffed. "This lot all need to die. I count—

"Too many," Angela muttered, turning to Cain. "The whammy you put on the doors that keep us in. Will it keep them out?"

"For now," Cain answered.

"Dean and I are gonna barricade the entrances." She replied. "Get ready for a fight."

"Well, good luck with that." Cain scoffed slightly.

"What?" Angela's brows furrowed.

"You exposed my home," Cain retorted. "You exposed _me."_

"Well, boo-hoo." Angela sassed.

"Brave, but impulsive," Cain commented. "You _truly_ have lived up to your reputation."

"I can't say you've lived up to yours." Angela scoffed.

"What can I say? I'm retired." Cain replied. "If you survive, you're welcome to join me for the last meal I will eat in this house before I disappear again. It's the least I can do."

~/~\~

Castiel was still extracting angel grace and Sam was almost unconscious due to the pain.

"Sam?" Castiel frowned. "Sam?!"

"Keep going," Sam muttered weakly.

"Why?" Castiel questioned.

"We—we—we have to find Gadreel," Sam mumbled.

"No." Castiel started to remove the needle. "Why must the Winchesters run towards death?"

Sam grasped the syringe and stopped him from removing it. "No, don't. Don't. Don't stop."

"Sam, when I was human, I died, and that showed me that life is precious," Castiel started. "And it must be protected at all costs, even a life as… pig-headed as a Winchester's."

Sam looked up at Castiel, tears in his eyes. "My life's not worth any more than anyone else's—not yours or Angie's or Dean's… or Kevin's. Please. Please, help me do one thing right. Keep going."

Castiel hesitated before pushing the needle in further, causing Sam to scream in pain.

~/~\~

Dean and Angela were pushing various pieces of furniture in front of all the doors. Angela looked between Crowley and Dean.

"Alright, I got this." She said. "You two take the front."

Dean's brows furrowed. "No way, Angie, you—

"I've got this." She stressed.

Dean hesitated for a few moments before following Crowley into the living room, closing the glass doors behind him. Cain sat down at the kitchen table and started to pull corn out of his grocery bag.

"So, this is your play?" Angela questioned. _"Corn?_ What am I not getting here? I mean, it's not like you're a coward."

"Since when does the great Angela Winchester ask for help?" Cain quirked a brow. "Well, that doesn't sound like the woman I've read about on demon bathroom walls. Maybe you've lost a step. Let's find out."

Cain snapped his finger and the door flew open, and multiple demons rushed in. Cain snapped his fingers again and the door slammed shut.

"Oh, don't mind me." He told the demons. "Enjoy yourself."

Angela squared her shoulders and pulled out her angel blade as another demon crashed through the glass doors. Angela flinched as glass sprayed her back. She turned to face the third demon, swung the blade at him, but was punched in the stomach. The demons sent her flying across the table and onto the other side. Cain just watched the scene unfold as he shucked his corn.

One of the demons swung at Angela, but she grabbed his hand and pulled it over his shoulder before stabbing him. One demon grabbed Angela from one side while another demon kicked the back of her left knee, making her legs buckle. The two demons grabbed her arms and flipped her up onto the table on her back. One of the demons stole the angel blade out of Angela's hand. As she struggled to get the other hand, Cain calmly leaned over.

"Doing great." He commented sarcastically.

Angela just glared at him and finally pulled her right leg back far enough to kick one of the demons into the far wall. She exchanged a few punches with the other demon and kicked him into the counter. She turned to face the female demon, who brandished the angel blade. Angela quickly picked up a yellow dish towel to protect herself. As the demon lunged at her, she swung out of her way and wrapped the towel around her neck. Angela whipped her into the fridge and then into the china cabinet. The other demon finally picked himself off the floor as Angela turned around and threw a pot at him and kicked him back into the counter. As the demon got up again, he grabbed a kitchen knife. When he turned around, Angela had the female demon in a tight hold. Angela grabbed the angel blade from the demon's hand and stabbed her in the stomach.

~/~\~

Crowley and Dean were still guarding the living room. One demon flew through the door and faced them.

"Really?" Crowley scoffed, annoyed. "Isn't it past your bedtime?"

The demon snapped, sending Dean flying into the wall, then punched Crowley to the ground.

"You're good," Crowley muttered, pulling out his angel blade, stabbing the demon in the side. "But I'm Crowley."

Dean immediately stood up and started to head for the kitchen to help Angela. However, Crowley stopped him.

"What the hell are you doing?" Dean glared. "Angie needs help."

"She's got this covered," Crowley assured as he watched the fight.

~/~\~

The demon threw Angela into the china cabinet as Cain got up to get a beer. The demon grabbed Angela and sent her flying across the floor and into the cabinets on the other side of the kitchen. Angela and the demon exchanged violent punches and Angela finally got enough leverage to slam him onto the table. In one quick move, Angela swung back and stabbed him in the neck with the angel blade. She looked triumphantly at Cain and pulled the knife out and pushed the body off the table.

"What?" Angela narrowed her eyes. "Was that some kind of test?"

"I felt connected to you right from the beginning." Cain sipped his beer. "I could _smell_ the demon blood _pulsing_ through your veins from a mile away."

Angela clenched her jaw. "I don't know what kind of game you're playing here, and I don't really care. Just give me the damn blade."

"Sorry, Angela." Cain sighed. "I have nothing to hand over."

"What?" she questioned angrily.

"I no longer have the blade. It's gone."

~/~\~

Sam was fading in and out of consciousness with blood dripping from his nose and eye as Castiel continued to extract the angel grace. Castiel looked up to see his PB&J sandwich still sitting on the table. He made up his mind and started pulling the needle out of Sam's neck.

"Hold on," he muttered. "This may pinch."

"Cas, what the hell?" Sam asked.

Castiel pressed his fingers to Sam's forehead, healing him.

Sam's brows furrowed. "Cas. What the hell was that?!"

"I've healed your wounds completely," Castiel replied.

"And the grace?" Sam frowned.

"Well, whatever grace was inside you is gone now," Castiel explained. "What's left of Gadreel is in here. We'll just have to try the spell with what we have."

Sam closed his eyes and sighed heavily. "Dammit."

"Sam, I want Gadreel to pay as much as you do. But nothing is worth losing you." Castiel replied sincerely. "You know, being human, it didn't just change my view of food. It changed my view of you. I mean, I can relate now to how you feel."

"What are you talking about?" Sam asked curiously.

"The only person who has screwed things up more consistently than you… is me." Castiel sighed. "And now I know what that guilt feels like. And I know what it… I know what it means to feel sorry, Sam. I am sorry."

"I know." Sam nodded.

"You know, the old me—I would've just kept going," Castiel admitted. "I would've jammed that needle in deeper until you died because the ends always justified the means. But what I went through—Well, that PB and J taught me that angels can change, so… who knows? Maybe Winchesters can, too."

~/~\~

"Gone? What do you mean, 'gone'?" Crowley asked Cain. "How? The spell brought us here to you, so it has to be here."

"Your spell brought you to the source of the Blade's power. Me." Cain corrected.

He pulled up his right sleeve to reveal a mark burned into his forearm. Crowley shrunk back and made the sign of the cross over his heart.

"Really? Now?" Dean scoffed.

"It's the bloody Mark of Cain." Crowley defended.

"From Lucifer himself. The Mark and the Blade work together," Cain explained. "Without the Mark, the Blade is useless. It's just an old bone."

"A bone?" Crowley raised his brows.

"The jawbone of an animal," Angela noted. "The jawbone you used to kill Abel because he was God's favorite."

"Abel wasn't talking to God. He was talking to _Lucifer."_ Cain corrected. "Lucifer was gonna make my brother into his pet. I couldn't bear to watch him be corrupted, so I offered a deal—Abel's soul in Heaven for my soul in Hell. Lucifer accepted… As long as I was the one who sent Abel to Heaven." He explained. "So, I killed him. Became a soldier of Hell—a knight."

"And Lucifer ordered you to make more," Dean replied.

Cain just nodded. "My knights and I, we did _horrible_ things—for centuries. Bringers of chaos and darkness."

"Then you met Colette," Angela whispered.

"She knew who I was… and what I was. She loved me unconditionally." Cain murmured. "She forgave me. She only asked for one thing."

"To stop," Crowley replied.

"When the knights found out, they took retribution." Cain nodded. "They took Colette, so I picked the First Blade back up, and it felt so good to have it in my hands again, and I slaughtered the Knights of Hell."

"Not all of them," Dean replied.

"No," Cain muttered angrily. "So, I buried Colette, and I walked away."

"Well, I'm sorry—truly," Angela replied. "But we have to stop Abaddon. So, where is the Blade?"

"No." Cain walked away.

"Hey!" Angela chased after him. "Listen, you son of a bitch. You may be done killing, but I'm not."

Cain turned and grasped the angel blade in Angela's hand and plunged it into his own chest. "You never give up on anything, do you?"

"Never," Angela replied firmly.

"Well, I do." Cain pulled the knife out of his chest and disappeared.

"Cain? Cain?!" Angela called out.

Dean, Angela, and Crowley pulled back the curtain to see dozens of demons preparing an attack.

"Well, I'll stay as long as I can," Crowley commented.

"Aren't you a peach?" Dean sassed.

Suddenly, Cain reappeared in the house with Dean, Angela, and Crowley.

"What the hell?" Angela snapped. "You in or out? I'm getting head spins."

"I can give you the Mark, Angela, if it's what you truly want." Cain offered.

Angela's brows furrowed. "What are you talking about?"

"The Mark can be transferred to someone who's worthy," Cain explained.

"You mean a killer like you?" Angela asked.

"Yes." Cain nodded.

"Angie, hold on, wait," Dean cut in. "You gotta think about this."

"There's no time, Dean." She retorted. "Can I use it to kill that bitch?"

"Yes," Cain confirmed. "But you have to know with the Mark comes a great burden. Some would call it a great cost."

"Angie—

"Yeah, well, spare me the warning label." She told Cain, ignoring Dean. "You had me at 'kill the bitch'."

"Good luck, Angela. You're gonna need it." Cain replied sincerely.

"Yeah, I get that a lot. Let's dance."

Cain grasped Angela's right forearm with his and a line of red veins spread from Cain's mark to burn an identical mark on Angela's forearm. Angela gasped in pain as the mark disappeared from Cain's arm.

"Angie?" Dean asked concernedly.

"I'm fine." She assured. "Alright, where the hell did you stash the damn Blade?"

"Nothing can destroy the Blade, so I threw it to the bottom of the deepest ocean," Cain replied. "It's the only way I could keep my promise to Colette. You find the blade, kill Abaddon, but make me a promise first. When I call you—and I _will_ call—you come find me and use the Blade on me."

"Why?" Angela's brows furrowed.

"For what I'm about to do."

Cain snapped, sending Dean, Angela, and Crowley outside of the house. All the demons rushed into the house and Cain locked them inside with him. Suddenly, a red-hot light lit up the windows.

"They're all trapped in there," Crowley muttered.

"With him," Dean added.

~/~\~

Sam and Castiel were mixing the spell to track Gadreel. They added all of the ingredients and then finally added the angel grace. The mixture boiled and then faded away. Castiel looked away, disappointed.

Sam frowned. "Was that, uh… was that it?"

"I'm afraid there wasn't enough grace." Castiel sighed. "We'll have to find Gadreel another way. I'm sorry, Sam."

"It's alright, Cas. You, uh… You were right." Sam replied. "You were right about anything."

Sam suddenly leaned over and hugged Castiel tightly. The angel stood awkwardly without moving.

"Now's the part where you hug back," Sam noted.

"Oh. Right." Castiel hugged him back. "Uh, sorry."

"Ah, there you go." Sam chuckled, patting Castiel's back before pulling away.

"As far as I'm concerned, Metatron is the key to fixing everything that's wrong. I'm gonna find him." Castiel replied. "You know, Sam, we could use all the help we could get to find Gadreel and Metatron."

"We got this," Sam replied solidly.

~/~\~

Dean, Angela, and Crowley sat in the parked Impala.

"He was right, you know." Crowley leaned forward to look at Angela. "You are worthy."

"Oh, great." She scoffed. "Now you're gonna get all touchy-feely, too?"

"Your problem, Bambi," Crowley muttered. "Is that nobody hates you more than you do. Believe me, I've tried."

Angela just rolled her eyes. "So, how do we find this Blade?"

"You can't search the bottom of the ocean," Crowley started as he got out of the Impala. "But I can. So, I'll find it and bring it to its new owner."

Angela and Dean got out of the car after Crowley.

"I saw you, Crowley. Back at Cain's. You dusted that undercard demon, and then you stopped Dean from helping me out. You just sat back and watched the main event." She glared. "You _knew._ You knew about the Mark. You knew about Abaddon and Cain. You knew all of it. And you _played_ me. Why?"

"He would never have given me the Blade," Crowley replied. "Who can say no to you, Bambi? I needed you to play along."

"You knew we were being followed, and you didn't say anything." Dean accused.

"Well, Cain would want to see his prizefighter up close. Bambi plus demons equals fight night." Crowley smirked.

"Tara _died._ Thanks to you." Dean growled.

"Omelets. Broken eggs. Et cetera."

Angela angrily punched Crowley. "After I kill Abaddon, you're next!"

"You don't mean that. We're having too much fun." Crowley replied. "Listen up. Even with the Blade, we're gonna need all the help we can get against Abaddon."

"Go find the Blade," Angela demanded.

"It's always something with you three, isn't it?" Crowley muttered before disappearing.

Angela hissed in pain and pulled up her right sleeve. The mark was burned deep in her skin. Dean frowned concernedly, wishing he had been able to stop her from accepting the Mark.


	23. Sharp Teeth Part 1

_Grantsburg, Wisconsin_

Sam, dressed in his FBI apparel, carried Grace into the hospital. He walked up to the front desk, pulling out his FBI badge with his free hand.

"Afternoon," he greeted. "I'm looking for a John Doe that was admitted a few days ago. He's a, uh… skinny… Ichabod Crane-looking kind of guy."

The receptionist glanced at Grace, and then looked back at Sam. "Agents are suddenly bringing babies on investigations?"

"Babysitter fell through," Sam replied. "The John Doe?"

"I know just who you mean. Room 113, agent." She replied.

"Alright, thanks." Sam gave her a small smile.

"Sure is a popular fella." She muttered to herself.

~/~\~

Garth was handcuffed to the hospital bed, still unconscious. Dean and Angela stood next to his bed, a syringe in Angela's hand. She was about to put something in Garth's IV, but when she heard the door open, she quickly hid the needle behind her back. Sam walked in with Grace in his arms, freezing when he saw Dean and Angela.

"Saw Garth's John Doe on the police wire," Sam commented after a long moment of silence. "You?"

"Yeah." Dean nodded. "Where you comin' from?"

"New Mexico," Sam answered.

"Well, that's a haul," Angela replied. "How's uh, how's Gracie doing with all the traveling?"

"Uh, good," Sam replied. "She's almost crawling."

Angela's brows raised slightly. "And you didn't think to text or call me to tell me that?"

Sam sighed heavily. "Angie—

"No, I—I get it. You're still upset, so…" she muttered. "Um, Dean and I have this covered, so, if you want to…"

"You spoken to him yet?" Sam questioned.

"No." Dean shook his head. "Assload of painkillers. He's been out since we got here."

Sam frowned when he noticed Garth was handcuffed to the bed. "What's he being charged with?"

"Killing a cow," Angela replied.

"Why?" Sam's brows furrowed in confusion.

"I was about to see if I could find out," Angela sighed. "Lock the door."

Sam moved to lock the door but rushed back when Angela pulled the syringe from behind her back. He immediately handed Grace to Dean.

"Whoa," Sam stopped Angela. "What is that? Adrenaline?"

"Yep," Angela replied.

"Are you trying to jump-start him or kill him?" Sam questioned.

"We want some answers." Dean defended. "He walked out on Kevin. He walked out on us. So, if you got a better idea…"

Sam sighed and then slapped Garth across the face with a loud _'smack.'_ Garth shot up, screaming.

"Aah! Aah! Aah!" he yelled. "Dean? Sam? Angela? What is this? A hospital?" he looked around, confused. "Wait. Am I in Heaven?"

"Alright, take it easy, Garth," Angela replied. "You're in Wisconsin."

"You were hit by a car," Sam added. "Do you remember anything?"

"I, uh… Vaguely." Garth pulled a hand up to hold his head but was stopped by the handcuffs. "What's with the hardware?"

Sam unlocked the cuffs and removed them.

"You tell us," Dean replied. "And while you're at it, why don't you give us the lowdown on why you went AWOL for the past six months. Only way we tracked you down is that you offed a cow."

Garth's brows furrowed in confusion. "Offed a… _what?_ I—I—I was on a hunt."

"Hunt for what?" Sam questioned.

"I—on, no." Garth's face turned slightly green. "Oh, get back. Oh, God."

In a panic, Garth pulled all the monitors and IV off, jumped out of bed, and rushed to the bathroom; shutting the door behind him. The three hunters cringed when they heard gagging and retching.

"Good thing I didn't give him the adrenaline," Angela muttered.

~/~\~

The three hunters sat in the hospital room as Garth continued vomiting. Grace sat on Angela's lap, babbling and playing with her mother's hair.

"Anything on Gadreel?" Dean asked, breaking the deafening silence.

"Actually, uh, yeah." Sam nodded. "Turns out he, uh, he left some grace in me before he bolted."

"You know how _wrong_ that sounds, right?" Dean quirked a brow.

"Wouldn't worry about it. Cas took care of it." Sam replied.

"Hmm." Dean chuckled.

"What?" Sam's brows furrowed.

"Nothing." Dean shook his head. "Angie and I are gone for two weeks, and you're like an episode of _'Teen Mom.'"_

Loud vomiting and coughing interrupted the conversation.

"Just breathe, Garth!" Angela replied. "Work it out."

Sam frowned when he noticed a scar on Angela's arm as she adjusted Grace on her lap.

"What happened to your arm?" Sam asked.

"Do you wanna tell him or should I?" Dean muttered.

Angela glanced down at the mark. "Oh. It's a… Gift from Cain."

Sam looked even more confused. "Like… the wrestler?"

"No," Angela chuckled. "Uh, no. The, uh… the old testament guy. He got all biblical on me and gave me his mark."

"What does it even mean? How—how did that happen?" Sam questioned.

"Dean, Crowley, and I found him, and he gave me this so that I could eighty-six Abaddon once and for all," Angela explained.

Sam looked between Dean and Angela. "You guys worked a job with Crowley?"

"The devil you know…" Dean sighed.

Suddenly, they realized that there were no sounds coming from the bathroom.

"Garth?" Sam called out.

They rushed into the bathroom and Garth was nowhere to be found. Dean sighed heavily when he noticed that the window was wide open.

"Son of a bitch."

~/~\~

The Winchesters quickly walked out of the hospital, looking for Garth. Sam carried Grace in his arms.

"Why would Garth run from us?" Dean asked.

"Why haven't we heard from him for the last six months?" Sam countered. "Did you guys test him?"

"He was unconscious," Angela replied. "No, w—he steal a car?"

Sam noticed a pair of boxers on the ground. "Did he… steal a car naked?"

Dean nodded to the roof. "Angie and I will see what we can find on those cameras. Why don't you go talk to farmer Brown, see about that call?"

"Yeah." Sam nodded.

~/~\~

Sam was at the farmer's house, Grace in his arms, clutching her little blanket. The farmer was fixing the broken fence.

"Last week, it was a couple of chickens," the farmer started. "Goat the week before that. So, when I saw that boy tearing out of my barn, hell yeah, I was gonna ask questions later."

"Now, the animals—were they all killed in the same manner?" Sam asked curiously.

"More like sacrificed." The farmer scoffed.

"What do you mean by that?"

"Their organs were ripped clean out."

"Only the organs." Sam raised his brows.

"If this wasn't some kind of devil-worship thing, I don't know what." The farmer muttered.

"Mm." Sam hummed. "Well, thanks."

~/~\~

Dean and Angela were walking out of the hospital. Angela held several papers and photos in her hand, when suddenly, her phone started ringing.

"Yeah." She greeted, putting the phone on speaker.

 _"So, the cow wasn't just killed,"_ Sam replied. _"It was eviscerated."_

"Well, why was Garth there?" Dean frowned.

_"He said he was on a hunt, right? Maybe he was hunting whatever killed it."_

"Why would he run?" Angela sighed. "This whole thing's starting to sink. You know that, right?"

 _"Yeah."_ Sam agreed. _"What about you guys? Any luck?"_

"Uh, nada." Angela lied. "Cameras were pointing in the wrong direction."

 _"You're kidding,"_ Sam replied, unconvinced.

"Wish I was." She sighed.

 _"Hmm."_ Sam hummed. _"So…"_

"So, Garth's a hunter," Angela replied. "If he wants to stay gone, he's gone."

 _"We got nothing?"_ Sam asked skeptically.

"Well, what can I say, Sam? We lost this one." Angela replied.

Dean and Angela walked around an ambulance, running right into Sam, who immediately snatched the photos from Angela with his free hand.

"Wow." Sam scoffed, clearly angry. "Make, model, license plate. Really, Angela?"

"You're the one who wanted space," Angela replied. "I was just trying to make it easier for you."

"Yeah. After we find Garth and get to the bottom of this, I'm gone." Sam replied. "But until then, no more games."

"Fine." Angela nodded, lips pursed tightly. "Ride belongs to a girl named Bess Meyers. She lives in the next town over."

~/~\~

Sam and Dean kicked Bess's door down; guns drawn. Angela stood behind them, carrying Grace. The three hunters frowned when they saw Garth inside.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Whoa, whoa!" he exclaimed. "Hey, guys. I can explain. Everything's cool. Just a simple misunderstanding."

"Who you talking to?" Angela questioned.

"What?" Garth's brows furrowed.

"The girl?" Dean raised his brows.

"What—what girl?" Garth stammered. "What the—

Dean pointedly grabbed a bra from the table and held it up.

"What, now?" Garth muttered.

Dean motioned for Sam and Angela to go right while he went left. The three hunters swiftly cleared the room, finding no one.

"Alright, alright," Garth stopped them. "Guys, everyone needs to take a chill pill and put their guns down. You see? Let's all be grown-ups here and have an adult conversation."

Suddenly, a female werewolf leaped from the closet behind Sam and attacked him. Angela shielded Grace protectively while Dean looked for a shot. However, Garth tackled the gun from him.

"No!" he cried.

Garth leaped between Sam and the werewolf as Sam nicked her with a silver knife.

"Sam!" Garth begged. "Sam, _please_ —don't hurt her."

"What are you doing?!" Dean yelled. "She's a werewolf!"

Garth paused for a few moments. "So am I."

~/~\~

Garth and the werewolf sat on the couch as he tended to her arm.

"It's okay, baby," Garth said gently. "Hold it like that."

"What are they doing here, Garth?" she asked quietly.

"They're friends," Garth replied. "I promise."

"They're _hunters."_ She argued.

"Alright," Garth sighed heavily. "We've all gotten off on the wrong foot here. So, let's do this right. Guys… this is Bess… my beloved. And, Bess, that's Dean. Now, he could start a fight in an empty house, but deep down inside, he's just a big ol' Teddy bear. Angela, she's so kind, but you definitely don't wanna get on her bad side," Garth explained. "And Sam here—Sam can be a bit insecure at times, but for good reason. Bless his heart."

"That's sweet," Dean muttered. "Werewolf?"

"Alright, guys, look—about six months ago, I was outside Portland, Maine, hunting this big bad wolf," Garth explained. "I took him down, but… He bit me in the process."

"And you didn't call one of us?" Angela frowned.

"And tell you what? That I messed up?" Garth replied. "No, I—I knew the deal. There's no cure, so I accepted my fate. Ate my favorite dish of egg fu yung, watched the world's greatest movie, _'Rocky III,'_ and then… was ready to eat a bullet, when Bess here found me."

"And how'd she do that?" Sam questioned.

"Smelled him." Bess smiled softly. "How else?"

"Yeah." Garth smiled softly at Bess. "She talked the gun out of my mouth, and, as they say, the rest is history. We've been married for four months now."

"You're married?" Angela raised her brows in surprise.

"To a werewolf," Dean added.

"Yes." Bess nodded. "And my pack has taken him in as one of our own."

"Guys, it's not what you think," Garth assured. "We don't hurt people."

"No, you just go all _Wolverine_ on cattle." Dean scoffed.

"Yeah." Garth nodded.

"At least he's not eating human hearts." Bess cut in. "Do you have any idea how hard it is for a bitten to control his instincts, like Garth does? How well he's doing?"

"Thank you, baby." Garth smiled.

"Well, it's the truth, honey bunny." Bess smiled back.

Sam's brows furrowed. "Wait. A—a 'bitten'? You're all bitten."

"Not at all," Bess replied. "You're either born into it, like I was, or you're bitten, like Garth."

"Hold on," Angela frowned. "You said you were—you were _born_ a werewolf?"

"Second-generation." Bess nodded.

"Garth, can we talk to you for a sec? Alone?" Dean asked firmly.

"Honey, why don't you go find some ointment for that arm?" Garth asked Bess. "Okay?"

Bess just nodded silently and left the room.

"What the hell?" Dean snapped at Garth.

"Look, I know you guys want to shoot first and ask questions later, but I checked everything out," Garth explained. "This pack is clean. Everything's Kosher."

"Right," Sam scoffed lightly. "Uh, minus the part where your wife _attacked_ me."

"Yeah, because you three came busting in here like a house on fire." Garth defended. "Guns waving, the jawlines and the hair—it's very intimidating! What'd you expect? Dean, no one wants any trouble. You got my word on that."

"Oh, no." Dean shook his head. "That ship has sailed. We're gonna need a hell of a lot more than your word."

"Okay. Okay." Garth nodded in understanding. "Tell you what? You want proof? Come pray with us."

~/~\~

The Impala pulled up outside a farmhouse. Dean and Angela got out of the car, and Dean walked back to the trunk while Angela unbuckled Grace from her car seat. Suddenly, Angela's phone started ringing.

 _"You guys there?"_ Sam's voice rang through.

"Yeah, just pulled up," Angela replied as she adjusted Grace in her arm. "Nothing too sketchy yet."

 _"That's a good thing, right?"_ Sam replied.

"Not betting on it," Angela muttered.

 _"Or are we just that jaded?"_ Sam countered. _"I mean, maybe Garth's right."_

"Well, you're a glass half full. Any luck with the cops?" Angela asked.

 _"Uh, sheriff should be rolling up any second,"_ Sam answered. _"Be careful."_

"Yeah. You too." Angela replied before hanging up.

Dean and Angela approached the house and Dean knocked on the front door. An older looking woman answered the door with a friendly smile.

"You must be Dean and Angela. I'm Joy," she introduced. "Garth's mother-in-law. Uh, stepmother-in-law, which I always thought sounded so silly. Please, come in. We're just finishing up."

Dean looked extremely uncomfortable and on edge. "Why don't you just tell Garth we're here?"

"You have my word—you're safe under my roof." Joy promised. "I only ask the same in return. After all… I'm not the one carrying silver."

Dean and Angela slowly entered and walked to the doorway of the living room, both of them still looking uncomfortable. Joy joined the group in the room singing. After a few moments, Garth played on off-key conclusion on the piano, causing Dean to chuckle slightly.

"Uh… Thank you, brother Garth." The group leader smiled. "Wonderful accompaniment, as usual. And I'll see the rest of you in the pews—9:00 a.m., sharp. No stragglers… Sister Amelia."

As the group erupted in laughter, Garth joined Dean and Angela at the doorway.

"Oh. Hi." He greeted. "So, what'd I tell you guys? It's all good, right?"

"Everyone here's a wolf?" Angela asked quietly.

"Yeah." Garth nodded.

"Yeah, not all good," Dean muttered.

"Oh, come on. You just got to meet them." Garth argued. "That's Russ and Joba, Bess's first cousins on sister Joy's side. That's Reverend Jim, Bess's dad—leader of the pack and a good man."

Reverend Jim came over, holding out his hand. "Dean and Angela, right? Welcome. Folks usually call me…"

"Reverend Jim. Yeah, we got it." Dean replied.

Garth chuckled uncomfortably. "Oh. Uh, my bad. Dean and Angela have this crazy fear of germs."

"I understand your apprehension," Reverend Jim told the hunters. "Hunters and our kind don't have the best history together."

Joy came up to stand by her husband. "But I think you'll find we're not much different from you."

"Oh, sister, I highly doubt it." Dean scoffed.

"Why don't we break bread and see?" Reverend Jim offered.

"Why would we do that?" Dean frowned.

Reverend Jim and Joy sighed heavily and left for the dining room. Garth was shocked at Dean's rudeness.

"Dean!" he chastised.

"What?" Dean scoffed.

~/~\~

A short time later, everyone was seated at the dinner table. Angela had Grace in her lap and was bottle-feeding her. Joy served raw animal organs to everybody except Dean and Angela, who got overcooked steaks, corn, and burnt biscuits.

"Now, everybody eat up." Joy chirped. "But make sure you leave room for pie."

"Sister Joy's pies are famous throughout the badger state." Reverend Jim smiled.

"Mm," Garth hummed through a mouthful. "Dean loves pie."

Dean glared at Garth and Angela cleared her throat.

"Um, don't you guys say grace?" she asked curiously.

"We're more spiritual than we are religious," Reverend Jim replied. "We believe, much like the American Indians did, that nature and man are one."

"Yeah, really worked out well for them," Dean muttered.

Garth sent another glare Dean's way, and Dean sighed. He noticed silver bullets hanging around every person's neck.

"So, why are a bunch of werewolves wearing silver bullets around their necks?" Dean questioned.

Garth coughed. "Sorry, Dean, but we don't use the 'W' word around here. We prefer the term 'lycanthrope.'"

"We?" Dean asked pointedly.

"He's entitled to his opinion, Garth." Reverend Jim replied.

"Many of our kind see themselves as indestructible," Bess explained. "This is a constant reminder of how precious our lives truly are."

"Doesn't it burn?" Angela's brows furrowed.

"Yeah, it does a bit," Garth shrugged. "But that's kind of the point. It reminds us of our fragility."

"My daughter, Bess, was born a lycanthrope. It was one of the proudest days of my life." Reverend Jim recalled, inhaling deeply. "Which soon turned tragic… When a hunter killed my wife. Believe me, when I tell you, I wanted to make someone pay. Then I looked at Bess, and I realized the road to revenge is a dark and lovely one, which you never get off. And that hole in the pit of your stomach, you never fill it—ever."

"Hey, no, we get it." Dean nodded.

"So, I chose to look forward," Reverend Jim continued. "Not backward. And the minute I did that, the powers that be brought this beautiful, compassionate, amazing woman into my life." He smiled at Joy. "And she helped me raise a little baby girl as if Bess were her own."

"I can't take all the credit." Joy chuckled. "Daddy had a hand in it, too. He saw your potential."

"Daddy?" Angela raised a brow.

"My father—bless his soul—was the previous reverend of our church, the third generation in our family to serve." Joy explained.

"So, you're fourth-generation werewolf?" Dean asked.

"Yes." Joy nodded.

~/~\~

"Look, the good Reverend Jim and his family are a little new-agey and hippie-dippy like, but they're clean as a whistle and pillars of our community." The sheriff explained. "Why is the FBI even interested in them?"

"I just go where they send me, sheriff," Sam replied. "Truth be told, I'm more interested in, uh… Murders and _'X-files'-y_ stuff. Anything of that variety around here?"

The sheriff chuckled. "No, sir. We're just a small town. Not much crime of any to speak of. I'm sorry, agent. I wish I could be more help."

"Ah, that's alright," Sam replied. "But if you do think of something, give me a call."

"Will do." The sheriff nodded.

~/~\~

Dean and Angela were in the kitchen, and Dean was looking through the fridge while Angela bounced Grace to sleep. They both turned around to see Russ and Joba behind them.

"Still hungry?" Russ raised his brows.

"Yeah, I was just, uh… seeing if you had any beer." Dean shrugged.

Russ moved in threateningly, pinning Dean and Angela in the corner. Dean moved to stand in front of Angela, keeping his gaze steady.

"The sooner you realize that all is good here, the sooner you can go." Russ glared.

"Don't you two have a chew toy or something to play with?" Dean retorted evenly.

"Hey, guys," Garth said as he walked into the room. "You mind if I grab a second with Dean and Angela, here?"

Russ and Joba glared at the two hunters before leaving.

"Why are you being so hard on everyone?" Garth sighed.

"Garth," Angela started gently. "It's just… hard to believe that all of this is what it looks like."

"Why is it so hard to believe?" Garth frowned deeply.

"Come on, man." Dean groaned. "I know you drank the kool-aid, okay? But come on."

"Look, amigo… I know this all looks nuts, but I found it." Garth replied. "Love and a family? Who cares where that comes from?"

"I do," Dean replied firmly.

"I get it." Garth sighed heavily. "When I first got here, I couldn't let it go, either. I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. But when it didn't, I had to accept the truth."

"Well, I got another truth for you—we were all left in the dark when you went AWOL." Dean snapped angrily. "We didn't know whether you were dead or worse. You should have reached out and sent someone a message."

"And said what? That I was a werewolf?" Garth argued. "I was embarrassed. I thought it best for everyone if I just stayed away. But that doesn't mean that I didn't think about you guys, and Sam… and Kevin."

Angela looked at Garth sadly. "Kevin's gone."

"What?" Garth's face fell.

"Gone for good," Angela whispered.

"What happened?" Garth asked softly.

"When he needed us, we weren't there," Dean replied sorrowfully. "That's what."

~/~\~

Later that night, Dean, Sam, and Angela were outside Reverend Jim's house, leaning against the Impala. Grace was asleep in Sam's arms.

"Okay, they gave you guys lunch, they gave you guys pie," Sam commented. "Why are we still here?"

"Uh, yeah, you're right." Angela nodded. "Garth's good. If you want to hit the road…"

"Look, I'm just saying," Sam sighed. "This wouldn't be the first time we came across a friendly monster. Or a—a family of friendly monsters—whatever this is."

There was an uncomfortable silence between the three hunters when thankfully, Sam's phone rang.

"Agent Perry." He answered, adjusting Grace in his arm. "Sheriff. Really? Okay."

~/~\~

The Impala rolled up to a side of an empty field where the sheriff stood, looking at a gutted deer. The three hunters got out, and Angela gently picked Grace up from her car seat.

"Well, you wanted weird, agent." The sheriff said as the hunters walked up to him. "You tell me what tore up that deer. Nothing that runs in these parts."

Dean, Sam, and Angela walked over to the deer to take a closer look, their backs to the sheriff.

"Fresh blood," Angela commented.

"Yes, it is." The sheriff replied.

He took his hands out of his pockets and the nails grew long as the sheriff turned into a werewolf.


	24. Sharp Teeth Part 2

"Still warm," Dean muttered, feeling the deer. "That means it died after we got the call."

Sam and Angela frowned as they put two-and-two together, and they swung around. Angela held Grace protectively while Sam pulled a silver knife from his jeans. Dean kept the knife behind his back as the sheriff trained his gun on them.

"Couldn't just accept that all was good and move on, could you?" the sheriff glared. "You have no idea what you've walked into, do you? No matter. You won't be walking out."

The sheriff quickly drew his weapon, but Dean was faster. He threw the silver knife right into the sheriff's chest and he fell to the ground, dead. The three hunters walked over to the body and Dean removed his knife. Sam noticed a silver bullet on a chain around the sheriff's neck and yanked it off.

"Hey," Sam started. "Look at this."

"Dean and I have seen that before," Angela replied. "Yeah, that is a favorite accessory of the good reverend and his flock."

Sam's brows furrowed when he noticed a word etched into the bullet. "Ragnarok?"

"Yeah, that's, uh, Thor, Loki, Odin stuff, right?" Dean asked.

"Yeah," Sam nodded. "It's Norse mythology's end of days. But why is it etched onto a bullet?"

"Who cares?" Angela huffed. "We got all the answers we need."

"I don't know." Sam shook his head. "I think we need more."

"Of what?" Dean scoffed. "Sheriff Andy Taylor wasn't good enough for you?"

"Enough to _kill_ Garth?" Sam argued. "Come on, guys. Let's do this right."

"Alright, fine." Angela sighed as she handed Grace to Dean. "Clean this up, grab Garth, lock him up until we figure out what's what. I'm gonna check out that church."

Sam fished his keys out of his pocket. "Here, take my car. And, uh, be safe, okay?"

"Thanks, Sam," Angela replied. "You guys stay safe too, okay?"

~/~\~

Angela pulled up to the quaint white church and got out of the car. She entered the sanctuary and looked around, using her flashlight.

~/~\~

Sam and Dean walked through the hallway leading to Garth's apartment door. Dean held Grace as Sam took out his lock-pick. The brother walked into the apartment, only to find it absolutely destroyed.

"Garth?" Sam called out.

~/~\~

Angela snuck into Reverend Jim's office and looked around. She eventually found a large book about Norse mythology. She skimmed the book until she found a chapter about Ragnarok. Angela turned on the desk lamp and shook the computer mouse to wake up the screen. The monitor showed a picture of Garth, Bess, Joy, and Reverend Jim.

"Seriously?" Angela rolled her eyes.

Angela searched 'Ragnarok' on the computer and quickly skimmed the article when her phone started ringing.

"Hey," she greeted. "Did you find them?"

 _"No,"_ Sam replied. _"Place is a wreck. No Garth, no Bess."_

Angela's brows furrowed slightly. "What, they were taken?"

 _"Tell us you got something, kid."_ Dean sighed heavily.

"Well, this, uh… Ragnarok, end-of-days crap—star of the story is a wolf named Fenris, who kills the God Odin before the world ends." Angela explained.

 _"Okay,"_ Sam replied. _"And that helps us how?"_

"There are cults that consider Fenris a wolf deity and worship him," Angela replied. "They call themselves the maw of Fenris."

 _"A cult of werewolves?"_ Dean snorted. _"What do they want?"_

"Well, Ragnarok is not just a Bible story to these nutjobs," Angela sighed. "It's an action plan—human extinction, total and complete werewolf domination."

 _"And… what? This is the—the ground-zero for their movement?"_ Sam questioned.

"I guess," Angela muttered. "Well, time for Reverend Jim to go down."

 _"Yeah."_ Dean agreed. _"Need any help, Angie?"_

"No, no, no, I got it," Angela assured. "You guys just, uh, find Garth."

 _"Alright,"_ Sam replied before the line went dead.

~/~\~

Angela frowned when she heard a car door shut, and then reverend Jim walked into the church. He walked up the aisle but paused when he smelled Angela.

"It's no use, Angela." Reverend Jim started. "I can hear your heartbeat. You must've done this countless times, yet you still get nervous."

Angela stepped out of the shadows with her gun drawn. "Nothing wrong with a little fear. It's what makes us human."

"Fear is not a purely human instinct." Reverend Jim argued. "Even monsters know fear. I came to work on my sermon."

"Well, why don't you start by preaching to me about the maw of Fenris?" Angela asked, raising her brows. "Yeah, that's right. I know all about you and your pack's little plan."

"I assure you, we are planning nothing." Reverend Jim assured.

"No?" Angela scoffed. "Well, then, why did I read about it in your good book?"

Reverend Jim sighed heavily. "Because generations ago, that hate and misplaced anger _was_ part of our beliefs. But ever since I took over here, I have eradicated it from our congregation."

"Yeah, well, apparently, some of them didn't get the word—like the good sheriff, who just tried to off me and my family." Angela narrowed her eyes.

Reverend Jim's brows furrowed in disbelief. "Sheriff Pat?"

"Let me see your bullet," Angela demanded.

Angela pulled Reverend Jim's silver bullet necklace closer, but when she turned it around, there was nothing etched on it.

"Where is it?"

"Where's what?" Reverend Jim frowned in confusion.

"Ragnarok," Angela replied.

"What?!" Reverend Jim exclaimed.

"It was etched into the sheriff's bullet," Angela explained.

"That's impossible." Reverend Jim shook his head. "The maw is dead."

"Yeah, well, tell that to Garth and your daughter, who are missing." Angela replied.

"No." Reverend Jim breathed.

~/~\~

The door opened and Russ and Joba dragged in an unconscious Sam and Dean. Grace wailed from the unfamiliar man's arm.

"Sam. Dean." Garth frowned in concern.

"What are you two doing?" Bess called out. "Russ? Joba?!"

Bess noticed Joy walk in with a satisfied smile on her face as she took Grace from Russ.

"Mom?" Bess asked shakily. "What is going on?"

Joy walked over to Bess and slapped her full in the face.

"Hey!" Garth snapped.

"First off," Joy sneered. "I'm not your mother."

"You leave her alone! You hear me?!" Garth yelled. "You want to hurt somebody, you hurt me!"

"Oh, that is so sweet." Joy laughed. "But I am going to hurt her. And him," she pointed to Sam. "And him." She pointed to Dean. "And even this precious little baby. But, I am especially going to hurt you, for bringing these hunters here. I'm gonna hurt all of you."

Garth looked at Bess, tears in his eyes. "I'm sorry."

~/~\~

Angela rushed from the church, her phone pressed to her ear. "Come on, Sam, pick up, dammit!"

She jumped into the car and the tires squealed loudly as she sped off.

~/~\~

"Please," Garth begged as Joy slapped him again. "Don't do this. Not to Bess. She's your daughter!"

"How many times do I have to say this?" Joy snarled. "Stepdaughter! I'm the last of my bloodline, thanks to you and your kind out there."

Suddenly, Sam and Dean started to regain consciousness.

"They're awake," Russ commented.

"Well, don't you two just look good enough to eat?" Joy smirked as she walked over to them.

"Let go of my daughter." Sam glared up at Joy. "She's innocent."

"She's far from innocent." Joy scoffed. "She's from a family of… hunters."

"Why are you doing this?" Dean questioned. "I mean, us, we can understand, but these people are your family. Your pack."

Joy motioned for Russ and Joba to guard outside. "Last winter, my little brother, Charlie, was killed by a hunter. My husband counseled patience, restraint. Just as when he took over our beloved church, he preached a new direction—lycanthropes and man would co-exist. Peace was more important than dominance." She explained. "I tried so hard to make his way work… to be a preacher's wife. But then… Charlie was murdered. And I couldn't help remembering my daddy's sermons. And, by golly, turns out he was right. As long as there is man, there can be no peace. And I, for one, am sick of it."

~/~\~

Outside of the barn, Russ smelled someone and walked around the hedge. Angela's jacket was laying on the fence. Russ frowned and turned to pick it up when suddenly, Angela stabbed him in the back.

~/~\~

"I get it now," Dean noted. "Why co-exist when you can rule?"

"Bingo." Joy smirked as Grace continued to wail. "But my husband doesn't see it that way. See, he was bitten, not born into it, like I was. He still holds on to his humanity. Which is why I am so pleased it will be his claws that start Ragnarok, not mine. You and your family coming here was a blessing from Fenris above. The three of you cornered Garth here, and then when Bess came running in to see what the fuss was about…" she trailed off, gasping. "You killed her."

"No!" Garth cried.

"Here. Silver to the heart." Joy taunted.

Garth growled protectively as he started to turn into a werewolf.

"You're gonna frame their murders on us." Sam realized.

"My husband turned his cheek once." Joy explained. "I don't think he can do it again."

Joy sauntered over to Bess and pointed a gun at her.

"Hey!" Garth yelled. "Get away from her!"

"Killing you gives me no joy," Joy told Bess. "But Ragnarok—it's bigger than all of us."

"You're sick." Bess sobbed.

Joy went to pull the trigger but Sam managed to stretch enough to kick the gun out of her hand. Joy pulled back in fierce anger.

"You're just dying for me to get my claws dirty, aren't you?" she glared at Sam.

Angela managed to slide in through the side door but Joba flew from the hayloft and tackled Angela; sending her flying. As they fought, Angela finally managed to get the upper hand and stabbed Joba. Joy turned to face Angela, slightly impressed.

"Wearing Russ's coat to hide your scent—smart." Joy commented.

"Oh, I'm full of surprises." Angela glared at Joy. "Now, let my daughter go, and I'll make this as painless as possible."

Joy attempted to dive for her gun, but Angela quickly pulled her gun from her waistband. Angela shot Joy in the foot, causing her to crumple to the ground. Angela straddled Joy's waist and grabbed Grace from her.

"I told you to let her go," Angela growled protectively.

Angela held Grace protectively in one arm. She pressed the gun to Joy's chest and shot her.

~/~\~

Garth, Angela, Sam, and Dean watched as Bess comforted her father. Angela held Grace protectively and bounced her slightly, attempting to get her to go to sleep.

Sam turned his attention to Garth. "Be good. Hear me?"

"I will," Garth assured. "Thanks, Sam."

Sam and Garth hugged and then Sam coldly glanced at Angela and Dean as he walked by them through the door. Angela watched sadly as Sam left, but quickly shook it off when Garth walked up.

"How's he doing?" Angela nodded at Bess and reverend Jim.

"He's taking it pretty hard," Garth replied. "Feels like he should have seen the signs earlier. How's Grace?"

"She's good." Angela nodded, sighing softly. "I'm just trying to get her to go to sleep."

"And, uh, maybe you were right," Dean added. "Reverend Jim… he seems like a good man… considering."

"Yeah. And you guys were right. Everything around here wasn't copacetic." Garth replied sadly. "I screwed up again. First Kevin, now this."

"Hey," Angela stopped him. "Kevin? That's not on you. I should've… I should've protected him."

"Well…" Garth sighed heavily. "I guess there's enough of that blame to go around, then."

Dean and Angela headed for the door, but Garth quickly stopped them.

"Dean, Angie."

"Yeah?" Dean quirked a brow.

"Um… I know this may sound a little crazy, but…" Garth started nervously. "Maybe I could come back and hunt with you. I mean, with my werewolf mojo, we'd have an advantage."

Dean and Angela shared a look before turning their attention back to Garth.

"Yeah, look, Garth—

"No, Angie." Garth interrupted. "I want to make this right. I never should've left you guys, especially Kevin. Kevin was my friend. Friends don't do that."

"Well, hey, you said it—you know, who cares where happiness comes from?" Angela shrugged. "Look, we're all a little weird, we're all a little wacky—some more than others—but… if it works, it works. You have something here. Okay? Don't let that go. Ever."

"Besides," Dean smirked. "Somebody's got to live to tell this damn story someday, and who better than you? Now shut up and come here." Dean opened his arms for a hug.

"Really?" Garth grinned.

Dean rolled his eyes, a small smile on his face. "Hurry up before I change my mind."

Garth hugged Dean tightly and then hugged Angela before they left.

~/~\~

The Impala pulled into the parking lot of Garth's apartment complex and stopped near Sam's car. There was an uncomfortable silence between the hunters as Sam prepared to get out.

"I'll send you that postcard," Sam said as he opened the door and got out.

"Yeah." Angela forced a small, unconvincing smile.

Sam pulled Grace from her car seat and almost reached his car when Angela finally got the nerve to get out as well.

"Hey." Angela stopped Sam.

Sam turned around, brows furrowed slightly.

"Uh, listen, that night that, uh… You know, we went our separate ways…" Angela started. "I was messed up, a-and Dean was messed up. Kevin was dead, and I… I don't know what I was."

"Okay." Sam nodded.

"Hell, maybe I still don't." Angela continued. "But, uh… I know I took a piece of you in the process, and for that… Somebody changed the playbook, baby. It's like what—what—what's right is wrong and what's wrong is more wrong, and… You're my other half, Sammy. And when we were all together…"

"We split the crappiness." Sam finished her sentence.

"Yeah. So…" Angela trailed off.

Sam pursed his lips. "Okay."

"Okay." Angela's brows raised in surprise.

"But something's broken here, Angela," Sam added.

"I'm not saying that it's not." She replied. "I… I just think maybe we need to put a couple W's on the board and we get past all this."

"I don't think so." Sam shook his head. "No, I-I wish, Angela, but… I don't see things the same way you and Dean do. Not anymore—our roles in this whole thing. Back in that church, talking me out of boarding up Hell? Or—or _tricking_ me into letting Gadreel possess me? You're my wife, Angela, and I can't trust you—not the way I thought I could, not the way I should be able to."

"I know, b-but whatever happened… We are _family,_ okay?" Angela replied, her voice wavering slightly.

"You say that like it's some sort of cure-all, like it can change the fact that everything that has ever gone wrong between us has been _because_ we're family." Sam retorted.

Angela could practically feel her heart break. "So, what—we're not family now?"

"I'm saying, you want to work? Let's work. If you want to be a family…" Sam trailed off, pursing his lips. "Those are my terms."

"Understood." She whispered as she took Grace from Sam.

Sam slid into the front seat of the Impala as Angela buckled Grace into her car seat. Angela sat in the back and quickly wiped away the oncoming tears. Dean looked between the couple, a deep frown on his face.


	25. The Purge Part 1

_Lebanon, Kansas_

Angela sat at the kitchen table browsing the internet as Sam walked into the room.

"Hey." Sam greeted.

Angela glanced up at him quickly. "Hey."

"You didn't come to bed last night," Sam commented, without much concern in his voice. "Or the past few nights."

"Um," Angela cleared her throat. "I've been sleeping in one of the empty bedrooms. Figured you still wanted some space. Besides, I haven't been sleeping much anyway, so… research."

"Gadreel?" Sam asked as he rummaged around the kitchen.

"And Metatron and the Mark of Cain and…" she looked up and realized that Sam wasn't really paying attention. "Crickets. I did find us a case, though."

"Oh, yeah?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, there was a strange death in Stillwater, Minnesota," Angela replied. "A competitive eater died after a hot-dog eating contest."

"So, what? Death by tube steak?" Sam questioned.

"If only." Angela scoffed. "He got attacked in his car, but, get this—he shrunk from 300 pounds to 90 pounds."

"Witchcraft?" Sam's brows furrowed.

"Or a heavy-duty laxative," Angela muttered. "You game?"

"Yeah." Sam nodded.

"Good." Angela nodded. "I'll let Dean know and I'll see if we can bring Gracie to Jody's on the way."

Angela got up to leave, but Sam stopped her in the doorway.

"You sure you're okay, Angela?" Sam asked.

Angela pursed her lips. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"'Cause—I don't know, you… This isn't about what I said the other day, is it?" Sam quirked a brow.

"Oh, about how we're not supposed to be family anymore?" Angela retorted. "No, don't flatter yourself, Sam. You know me. I don't break that easy."

"Oh, good." Sam nodded. "'Cause I was just being honest."

"Oh, yeah," Angela replied sarcastically. "No, I got that loud and clear."

~/~\~

_Stillwater, Minnesota_

Sam, Dean, and Angela walked into the police station in their FBI apparel. Sheriff Donna Hanscum came over with two reports and handed one to Sam.

"Thanks for your patience, agents." Donna started. "Coroner's reports finally came in."

"Alright, thank you." Sam nodded. "Alright, let's see. Did Wayne McNut really weigh 300 pounds just moments before time of death?"

"316 to be exact." Donna corrected.

"And the official cause of death?" Angela questioned.

"Cardiac arrest," Donna answered. "But between you and me, that's just a guess. The vic suffered massive organ damage." She explained before turning around and handing the other report to Jenny. "Here you go, Jenny." She smiled before turning back to the hunters. "Ruptured spleen, pierced liver, collapsed lung. Looked like everything was just sucked right out of him."

"Like he'd been hoovered?" Dean raised his brows.

"Yeah." Donna nodded. "Yeah, you know, I got to be honest—hm?" she took a powdered donut out of a box and offered them one.

Dean gladly walked over and grabbed a donut for himself.

"We're stumped." Donna continued. "This type of things just doesn't happen in Stillwater."

Donna took a big bite out of her powdered donut and it covered her mouth and black tie with white powdered sugar.

Sam glanced down at the report. "Now, did Wayne have any enemies?"

"Hmm," Donna hummed. "More like an unfriendly rivalry."

Dean took a huge bite out of his donut and white powder covered his lips and face.

"A guy named 'Slim Jim' Morgan," Donna continued. "Like Wayne, he was pretty well-known in the competitive-eatin' circuit."

Angela noticed Dean's face, stifling a giggle. She attempted to subtly motion Dean to wipe his face and Dean wiped the side of his mouth, completely missing the powder.

"Competitive-eating circuit?" Angela turned her attention back to Donna. "Is that a big thing out here?"

"Oh, yeah. You betcha." Donna nodded vigorously. "Folks take it real seriously—train for _months._ Eat all sorts of wackadoo stuff, you know, like, uh… Baked beans, buff wings, butter."

"Butter?" Dean's brows shot up.

"Yeah. Sometimes deep-fried." Donna replied.

"Hm." Dean hummed as he took another bite of his donut.

"This year alone, Wayne won the Butter Bowl, the Wing Dig, and Shrimptasia," Donna explained. "Anyhoo, point being, Wayne McNut was the only one Slim Jim couldn't beat in the whole Great Lakes region."

"So, is he a suspect?" Dean questioned.

"We checked him out, but Slim Jim was in the Hot Doggery at the time of Wayne's death, and we got 15 witnesses to prove it," Donna explained.

"Really?" Dean asked.

"Yah." Donna nodded, taking another bite of her donut.

~/~\~

Sam, Dean, and Angela were at 'Slim Jim' Morgan's house, interviewing him. Dean eyed Slim Jim, who was eating a gigantic bowl of lettuce.

"Training." Slim Jim commented through a mouthful. "When I gear up for a competition, I eat lettuce—stretches the stomach."

Dean cringed. "Yet another reason to stay away from salads."

"How well did you know Wayne McNut?" Angela questioned.

"Well, well enough to know he was a weasel and a cheat." Slim Jim answered. "I hate to say it, but, uh, karma's a bitch."

Dean noticed a shelf full of spell jars and funnily shaped boxes. "This is interesting."

"Mala's good-luck charms." Slim Jim replied.

"And Mala is…?" Dean raised his brows.

"My old lady." Slim Jim replied.

"Is your old lady superstitious?" Dean asked curiously.

"Yah." Slim Jim nodded. "She's Romanichal."

Dean's brows furrowed in confusion. "Romanichal?"

"Gypsy." Sam clarified.

"But don't call her that." Slim Jim noted. "She says it's reductive. But I think it's a compliment. I mean, gypsies are all the rage on TV— _'My Big Fat Gypsy Wedding,'_ _'Gypsy Sisters'…_ _'Keeping up with the Kardashians.'"_

"Um," Sam cleared his throat. "You mind if I use your bathroom."

"Yeah, go ahead." Slim Jim nodded. "But use the one upstairs at the back. Mala's taking a shower in ours."

"Right," Sam replied as he left the room.

"Did you really lose the 'Wiener Winner' by one dog?" Dean quirked a brow.

"Yah." Slim Jim sighed sadly.

~/~\~

Sam walked into Slim Jim and Mala's shared bedroom. The shower was running, so he took a quick look around. Sam noticed a hex bag on the nightstand, grabbing it before Mala could catch him.

~/~\~

"And what are we talkin'?" Dean asked curiously. "Six inches? Foot-long?"

"Look, agents," Slim Jim replied, slightly annoyed. "Am I a suspect here or what? 'Cause unless you got a warrant—

Sam walked into the room and cleared his throat. "You guys, uh, ready to go?"

"Yeah." Angela nodded. "Uh, Mr. Morgan, thank you for your time. If you remember anything else, this is our number and where we're staying locally." She explained as she handed him their card.

~/~\~

Back at the motel, Dean picked up the pieces of the hex bag on the table.

"Alright, so, we got what appears to be Wayne McNut's hair and… a bag full of weird." He cringed.

"In Romanichal culture, the pouch is called a putsi bag." Sam read from the laptop. "It's used for hexes."

"Okay, so, what?" Angela asked. "Mala's putting hexes on hubby's competition?"

Sam just shrugged in response.

"I mean, what do we got ourselves?" Dean asked with a frown. "A 'thinner' stitch here?"

"Slim Jim might not even know." Angela sighed.

"Hm." Dean hummed.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. The three hunters exchanged confused looks and Dean got up and drew his gun. He looked through the peephole and shrugged. Dean opened the door to reveal Mala, who had a smile on her face.

"Hi." Dean greeted.

"I believe you have something of mine." Mala accused.

~/~\~

Mala sat in the hotel room and Dean handed her a glass of water.

"Kill Wayne?" she asked wide-eyed. "I _loved_ him!"

"So… you were…" Angela trailed off.

"Yes." Mala sighed heavily. "Okay? We were having an affair—for years, actually."

"I don't mean to be rude," Dean started gently. "Uh… but how is it that Wayne McNut is your type? I mean, you're married to a man who's barely a buck—wet."

"What can I say?" Mala shrugged. "Sometimes it's nice to feel a little give."

"Oh," Dean nodded. "Yeah, I get that—a little extra cushion for the, uh…"

Sam and Angela both shot Dean a look, effectively shutting him up. Sam cleared his throat and turned his attention back to Mala.

"Help me understand something," he started. "If you loved Wayne, why did you put a curse on him?"

"It wasn't a curse. Putsi bags are also used for blessings." Mala corrected. "I wanted Wayne to win. Plan was, take the prize money, get a quickie divorce, and then tie the knot in Orlando. Wayne used to call me his 'Princess Jasmine.'"

Dean smiled almost wistfully but quickly hid it when Sam and Angela looked over.

~/~\~

The next morning, Sam, Dean, Angela, and the police were at the crime scene in the gym.

"Any idea what the vic weighed beforehand?" Angela questioned.

"165." The officer answered.

"So… 180. Known fact—all women lie about their weight and age." Dean replied.

Angela narrowed her eyes. "Wait, you told that waitress the other day you were 29."

"Mm-hmm." Dean nodded.

"Need anything else, agents?" the officer interjected.

"Yeah, is Sheriff Hanscum around?" Sam asked curiously.

"Sorry." The officer shook his head. "She's out for the rest of the week. Hell of a time to take a vacation, right?" he added before walking off.

"Okay, so, we have two victims, with seemingly nothing in common except, uh—

"A love for chocolate eclairs." Dean cut Sam off. "Check this out."

The three hunters bent down to look at the body and Angela pulled the woman's shirt up to reveal a large, circular suction mark.

"What is that?" Angela frowned. "A birthmark?"

"Huh," Sam muttered. "So, the weight had to come off somehow, right? What if it's a suction mark?"

"A suction mark?" Dean raised his brows. "Okay. Uh, changeling?"

"Yeah, but changelings only take over kids. Neither of the vics had any." Sam frowned.

"And we don't know if Wayne McNut had a suction mark," Angela added.

"Unless we missed it," Sam argued.

Dean's gaze traveled to a rather attractive woman, who was talking to an officer. "Yeah. Well, we should split up. Two of us should hit the morgue. The other should stay here and question the staff."

Sam followed Dean's gaze. "I'll stay."

"Uh, no, not happening." Angela cut in.

"Why?" Sam scoffed.

"One, you're still married," Angela replied. "And two, you're… _awkward_ around girls."

Sam's brows furrowed. "How am I awkward around girls? Like you said, we're married."

"You were kinda weird around her before you guys got together," Dean admitted.

"See?" Angela shrugged. "Awkward. Sorry, Sam. I'm just… _being honest."_

Angela walked off, her heels clacking on the floor, and Sam sighed heavily.

"Dude…" Dean started.

"I don't want to talk about it, Dean." Sam huffed.

~/~\~

"So, you were scheduled to close the gym last night?" Angela asked the gym trainer.

"Yeah, but I didn't exactly lock up. Carol was still working out, and," the woman sighed. "I had a date. I didn't want to shortchange her, you know? I mean, the poor girl has been working so hard to lose weight for her wedding. I slipped her the key, and I told her to lock up on her way out."

The woman started to cry and when she leaned over the counter to grab a tissue, her shirt rode up slightly, revealing a suction mark on her back. Angela's brows furrowed slightly.

"Oh, it's all my fault." The gym trainer cried.

~/~\~

Back at the motel, Angela sat on the bed with her back to the headboard and the laptop on her lap. Sam and Dean walked into the room.

"Hey." Sam greeted.

"You guys find anything at the morgue?" Angela asked curiously.

"Yeah." Dean nodded. "Uh, so Wayne was banged up pretty bad. But on the back of his neck, just below his hairline… suction mark—identical to Carol's."

"Okay, so, they both had marks, just like the trainer at Rollz," Angela replied.

Sam's brows furrowed in confusion. "But she was skinny… and alive."

"And just recently lost a ton of weight," Angela started. "When I asked her about the mark, she, uh—she clammed up, got all embarrassed. So, uh, I did some checking. And it turns out that she took a couple of 'me' days last month and went here."

Angela turned the laptop around so Sam and Dean could see a website advertising a day spa called 'Canyon Valley.'

"Canyon Valley?" the brothers asked simultaneously.

"Hm. Yeah." Angela nodded, pushing play on a promo video.

 _"When you look in the mirror, do you recognize the fat person staring back at you?"_ a woman with a thick Peruvian accent asked. _"Have you tried every fad diet, every fitness trend out there, but nothing seems to work? Here at Canyon Valley, we guarantee weight loss with no surgery. No extreme dieting… and no intensive workout regimen. Guaranteed results in one week! You can reach your weight-loss goals."_ She explained. _"We did. But only if you reach for the phone and call Canyon Valley… Now."_

"How far away is that place?" Dean questioned.

"Couple of hours," Angela replied.

~/~\~

Sam, Dean, and Angela were being interviewed by Maritza and Larry.

"We were really, really moved by the online testimonials." Angela smiled softly.

"Oh, yeah." Dean agreed. "That was some powerful stuff."

"And you three are certified, personal trainers?" Maritza raised her brows.

"Mm-hmm." Angela hummed. "Kind of like a personal training family."

"And you're certified in…" Larry trailed off.

"Makin' people sweat!" Dean exclaimed with a grin. "Yeah. Kickin' ass and takin' names!" he slammed his hand on the table. "That's how we do!"

"Uh… Uh, to clarify, uh, what my brother's trying to say is," Sam cut in. "The three of us have a passion for fitness and helping people."

"Oh, us too." Maritza beamed. "In fact, that's how we met."

"I was Maritza's first client back in Peru," Larry added. "I was on a student visa—homesick, stressed, eating my troubles away."

"Oh, he was the size of a casa." Maritza chuckled.

"Oh, it's true!" Larry nodded. "I was one empanada away from a heart attack. But then this… gorgeous godsend made me the lean, mean, fighting machine I am today."

Larry stood up and performed various Kungfu fighting techniques.

"Ho! Oh…" Dean stared with wide eyes.

"But I digress," Larry sat back down. "Now, the good news is, we are hiring. The bad news is, there's only _two_ trainer positions available." He explained before turning his attention to Dean. "How do you feel about working in another department?"

Dean's brows furrowed in confusion. "Huh?"

~/~\~

Dean, wearing a hairnet, watched over the lunchroom. Sam and Angela walked up, both of them wearing workout clothes.

"Nice shorts," Dean smirked at Sam. "And nice yoga pants, Angie."

"Nice hairnet." Sam shot back.

"Yeah, why do I got to be the lunch lady?" Dean grumbled.

"Since when have you ever complained about being around food?" Angela chuckled.

"Okay, this is _not_ food," Dean argued.

"Hey, new guy." Alonso snapped. "Quit flirtin' with the trainer and keep scoopin', huh?"

Dean glared at him and Sam checked his watch.

"It's alright." Sam sighed. "Our, uh… Ashtanga yoga class starts in five minutes."

"How the hell do you two know anything about yoga?" Dean questioned.

"I'm, uh, pretty bendy, Dean," Angela smirked before she and Sam left.

Dean blinked a few times as someone walked up to him.

"Hey, you have any oatmeal?" the man asked.

"Yeah, I wish." Dean chuckled. "No, but we have, uh, something that's tofu over there. I—what is that? It's a pancake. It's tofu."


	26. The Purge Part 2

Dean was in the kitchen leaning against a counter and typing on his phone. Alonso was buttering some kale on a tray but looked up to see Dean slacking. Alonso threw a towel at him, causing Dean to jerk upright.

"Flojo. You got time to lean, you got time to clean, huh?" Alonso raised his brows.

"I'm starving," Dean grumbled, clearly annoyed as he started wiping the counter. "What do we get to eat?"

"Same as the clients," Alonso answered.

Dean's brows furrowed. "They expect us to eat this rabbit food?"

"It's not rabbit food." Alonso rolled his eyes. "It's superfood."

"I'm not eating it," Dean mumbled stubbornly.

Alonso sighed heavily and set a bowl of orange-colored pudding next to Dean. "At Canyon Valley, we're supposed to lead by example."

"This is leading by example?" Dean quirked a brow.

"It's not for us, stupido." Alonso scoffed. "It's for the clients. They're allowed to have pudding on their spa day. It's like a—a last hurrah before the real work starts. Get to work." He explained before walking off.

Dean sighed and started to fill the bowls with pudding. He looked around to make sure that no one was watching and then took a small mouthful of pudding.

"Mm." he hummed. "What do you know? Looks like it's my 'spa day,' too."

Dean chuckled lightly and slipped a bowl of pudding into his apron.

~/~\~

Sam and Angela stood in front of the people in their yoga class.

"Okay, good job, guys." Sam praised. "Go to, uh, Downward dog." He grunted as he showed them. "Hold for five minutes."

"Five minutes?" one of the students frowned. "It's usually 30 seconds."

"Right. Yes, 30 seconds. That's what he meant." Angela replied. "Okay, uh, we'll just come around, make sure everybody's form is okay…"

As everyone's shirts rode up because of the upside-down position, Sam and Angela noticed that they all had suction marks on their backs. Sam and Angela exchanged a look.

"Make sure you're, uh, keeping your cores tight," Sam explained. "And, uh, your—good job. Great."

"Straighten that back out," Angela instructed one of the students.

~/~\~

Dean hid away in some small pantry to eat his contraband pudding, looking very pleased with himself.

"Mmm. Mm." he hummed contentedly.

Dean attempted to stand up when he finished, and he suddenly turned pale and swayed sideways. He then completely lost consciousness and fell to the floor.

~/~\~

Sam and Angela were greeting everyone as they left the yoga class.

"Good job, everyone!" Angela praised with a smile on her face.

"Good job! Good work, guys! See you all soon." Sam smiled.

Larry walked down the hallway toward Sam and Angela wheeling a pretty loopy Donna in a wheelchair.

"How was class?" Larry asked curiously.

"It was, uh… great." Sam nodded. "Yeah."

"Agent Frehley? Agent Simmons?" Donna asked. "What are you doing here?"

Larry looked at Sam and Angela, clearly confused. "Agent Frehley? Agent Simmons?"

"Uh, I-I-I don't know." Angela shrugged. "She must be pretty out of it, huh?"

Suddenly, Sam's cell phone started to ring loudly.

"Oh, excuse us." Sam grabbed Angela's hand as he took out his phone. "Sorry. I got to get this. Have a good one."

Sam dragged Angela away and put the phone on speaker, letting go of Angela's hand.

"Yeah?" Sam answered.

 _"Sammy."_ Dean slurred.

"Dean?" Sam frowned. "What's wrong with you."

 _"I need your help,"_ Dean mumbled groggily.

"Where are you?" Angela questioned. "Dean?!"

 _"Sweet potatoes!"_ Dean replied. _"Sw…"_

~/~\~

Sam and Angela ran through the back hallways of the resort looking for Dean.

"Dean? Dean!" Angela called out.

"Dean?" Sam began to panic. "Dean?!"

"Sammy. Angie." Dean replied from behind a door.

Sam and Angela burst through the door and saw Dean still halfway out on the floor.

"Dean! Hey! Hey! Wake up!" Sam slapped his brother's shoulders.

"What took you guys so long?" Dean groaned.

"What the hell happened?!" Angela questioned.

"I was drugged," Dean replied.

Sam's brows furrowed. "Dru—what?"

"Pudding," Dean mumbled. "It was supposed to be for the clients, but I couldn't resist."

Angela picked up the bowl and smelled it. "What, salted caramel?"

"Yeah, Angie," Dean smirked, still groggy. "The best of both worlds—salty and sweet."

"Right," Sam muttered. "Uh… Alright, you stay here. Angie, look after him."

"No, no," Dean mumbled. "I'm gonna come with you." He tried to get up and follow Sam, quickly falling back to the floor. "Go ahead, man. I'll catch up!"

~/~\~

Sam rushed into the kitchen, glaring at the chef.

"Hey. Did you make the pudding?" he questioned.

"Depends." The chef replied.

"On what?" Sam frowned.

"Whether you liked it or not." The chef chuckled.

Sam angrily slammed the man up against a fridge. "What's in it?!"

The chef stared up at Sam with wide eyes. "Relax, Jack Lalanne. It's low-cal. Nonfat milk, sea salt—

"No, no. Not the ingredients." Sam glared. "The something _extra."_

"Chill, man." The chef replied shakily. "Supplements, okay?"

~/~\~

Back in the pantry, Dean was sitting up, looking like he had a monster headache.

"What kind of supplements?" he asked.

"Here," Angela handed Dean an energy drink.

"To boost metabolism, per Larry and Maritza," Sam explained.

Dean looked inside the supplement bottle. "These aren't 'supplements,' they're roofies."

Sam's brows furrowed. "What? How do you know what roofies look like?"

"How do you _not_ know, Sam?" Angela countered. "Do you want to end up in a hotel bathtub with your kidney carved out?"

"Did you guys find anything out in the yoga?" Dean groaned.

"Yeah." Sam nodded. "Yeah. 'Invasion of the Body Snatchers.' Every single person in class had one of those freaky-ass suction marks."

"What the hell's goin' on here?" Dean muttered.

~/~\~

The three hunters now sat talking to Donna in her room. She sat across from them wearing a fluffy white bathrobe.

"You know," she started. "I didn't mean to bail on you guys, but I've been waiting over six months to get into Canyon Valley. And let me tell ya, it was worth it. I already lost 10 pounds!"

Sam's brows shot up. "In—in one day?"

"No offense, Sheriff—'cause you look great—um, but aren't you the least bit curious as to how you dropped 10 in a day?" Dean asked, quirking a brow.

"Well, to tell you the truth, agent, I don't really give a flyin' fudge." Donna chuckled. "My husband, Doug, left me last year 'cause he said I loved cookie-dough milkshakes more than him."

"What a douche bag," Angela replied.

"Sorry to hear that," Sam added sincerely.

"Yeah, Doug's a dick. You deserve better." Dean agreed.

"Thanks. But he was right. That was a dark time for me. Whoever said you eat your pain? Not me. I guzzled it." Donna laughed sadly. "Anyhoo… I guess I just wanted to feel pretty again. And Canyon Valley did that. Only question is… What are you doing here?"

"We're, uh, uh… We're undercover." Dean replied quietly.

"Yeah. Sort of got that." Donna smiled.

"We think that there's a connection between Canyon Valley and the murders in town," Angela added.

"What kind of connection?" Donna tilted her head curiously.

"Suction marks," Sam answered.

"You mean like this?" Donna lifted her shirt in the back to reveal a large suction mark.

"Yeah." Sam nodded. "Where did that come from?"

"My spa treatment. Cupping." She explained.

"Cupping?" Dean raised his brows.

"Yeah. You know, I thought it was gonna hurt, but honestly, I snoozed through the whole thing." Donna explained. "By the time I woke up, I was down two dress sizes."

"Before the cupping, did you eat any pudding?" Dean questioned.

"Darn tootin'." Donna laughed. "Licked the bowl clean."

"Donna, do you remember who did this treatment?" Angela asked.

"Oh, yah. You betcha." Donna nodded.

~/~\~

Maritza started taking containers filled with fat out of the fridge and started dumping them into the trash. She looked down at the container in her hands, tempted to eat from it, but startled when she heard a sound behind her. Dean and Angela stood there with their guns drawn.

"Okay, I'm no health nut, but that is just wrong." Dean cringed.

Dean and Angela expertly tied Maritza to chair, making sure that she couldn't escape.

"Alright, talk," Angela demanded.

"This isn't what you think. I'm not a killer." She stressed.

"Well, then, what are you?" Angela questioned.

"I'm a Pishtaco," Maritza replied.

Dean frowned, highly confused. "A fish taco?"

"A _Pishtaco."_ She corrected. "It means 'Peruvian fat sucker.'"

"Never heard of it," Dean replied. "So, what, you're like vamps with a sweet tooth for cellulite?"

"Vampires kill. We're just… Parasites." Maritza corrected.

Dean scoffed. "Oh, well, in that case—

"Look, I would never hurt anybody!" Maritza cried. "Okay, this—this is why Larry and I started Canyon Valley. We could help people lose weight, and I could feed. It was a win-win."

"Yeah, except for the two you dysoned to death." Angela retorted.

"That wasn't me," Maritza assured.

"Well, then who was it?" Angela quirked a brow.

"Alonso." She answered.

Dean frowned. "The dude from the cafeteria?"

"He's my brother." Maritza sighed.

~/~\~

Sam walked by the kitchen and heard a man scream loudly. He ran in to find Larry dead on the floor with his neck bleeding out into a drain.

~/~\~

"I brought Alonso here from Peru to show him a better way, a more civilized way," Maritza explained. "One where we weren't monsters. That the secret to coexisting with humans was just… eating enough to get by."

"Let me guess," Sam scoffed. "Alonso wasn't a big fan of portion control, was he?"

"No." Maritza shook her head, tears in her eyes. "During a routine treatment, he almost killed a client. He sucked out too much fat. I demoted him to kitchen duty—no human contact, just fat from a jar. But he said the more I deprived him, the hungrier he got." She started to sob. "And now three people are dead. My husband…"

"Where's Alonso right now?" Angela questioned.

"The—the basement? That's—that's where he spends most of his time now." Maritza sniffled.

Sam sighed and looked at Dean and Angela. "What about her?"

"Well, till we figure out which side she's on, she stays put," Dean replied.

"I am on your side," Maritza stressed.

"Okay." Angela nodded. "Then how do we kill him?"

~/~\~

Angela, Sam, and Dean searched the basement in the dark by the light of their flashlights. They silently nodded to each other to split up to cover more ground. Dean and Angela found Alonso's hideout with all his empty fat jars. Sam ran across the murdered chef. He looked into a wardrobe, but it fell from the wall, trapping Sam underneath it. Alonso was on top of it, grinning evilly.

"You have no chance." Alonso chuckled. "The fat makes us stronger."

"Your sister didn't mention that when she ratted you out," Sam grunted.

"You're lying!" Alonso growled angrily.

"I guess after you killed her husband… you were too monstrous, even for her," Sam replied.

Sam and Alonso started fighting in the dark by the dim light of Sam's flashlight. Alonso finally got Sam pinned down with his knees and was about to suck his neck when Angela arrived and killed Alonso. Alonso screamed in pain and fell dead next to Sam.

~/~\~

As the coroner's gurney rolled by, Sam, Angela, Dean, Donna, and a police officer stood in the entryway.

"We'll let you know if we need any other information." The officer told the hunters. "Thanks for everything. Appreciate it."

As the Winchesters walked away, Sam and Angela noticed Maritza sitting alone in a cove off the hallway. They walked over to her.

"Hey." Angela greeted softly.

"What did you tell the sheriff?" Maritza asked, wiping her tears away.

"The usual—psycho killer on the loose. They, uh… usually, buy it." Sam explained.

"I lost my whole family today," Maritza said quietly.

"We're so sorry," Angela replied sincerely. "I…"

"Can I steal you guys for a sec?" Dean interrupted.

Sam, Dean, and Angela walked out into the hallway so that Maritza couldn't hear them.

"Once this place clears out, we're gonna make this a family affair." Dean nodded in Maritza's direction.

"Wait, Dean." Sam frowned. "We're not gonna kill Maritza."

"She's a monster," Dean argued.

"Yeah, who saved our asses." Angela countered.

Dean huffed, seeing that it was clearly two against one. "So, one-way ticket to Peru?"

~/~\~

Dean and Angela sat in the bunker's kitchen, having just gotten back from picking Grace up from Jody's. Sam appeared in the doorway.

"I'm hitting it," Sam commented.

"Yeah. Hey." Angela set Grace in her high chair and walked over to Sam.

"Yeah?" Sam raised his brows.

"About what you said the other day…" she sighed heavily.

"I thought it didn't bother you." Sam scoffed lightly.

"You know, Sam, we saved your hide back there. And we saved your hide at that church." Angela replied softly. "And the hospital. Now, I didn't think things all the way through. Okay? And I'd do it all again."

"And that… is the problem, Angela. You've _convinced_ yourself that you're doing more good than bad… but you're not." Sam retorted. "I mean, Kevin's dead. Crowley's in the wind. We're no closer to beating this angel thing. Please tell me, what is the upside of me being alive?"

"Are you kidding me?" Angela asked, shocked. "Grace having her father. You, me, and Dean—fighting the good fight."

Sam huffed in frustration, almost left, but then decided to explain. "Okay. Just once, be honest with me. You didn't save me for me. You did it for you."

"What are you talking about?" Angela's brows furrowed. "I did it for our family, Sam. I did it so Grace could know her father."

"I was _ready_ to die. I was ready." Sam argued. "I _should_ have died, but you… you couldn't let go, and that's what this all boils down to."

"Alright." Angela pursed her lips.

"I'll give you this much." Sam continued. "You are certainly willing to do the sacrificing as long as you're not the one being hurt."

Dean frowned deeply. "Sam—

"Alright, you want to be honest?" Angela narrowed her eyes at her husband. "If the situation were reversed and I was dying, you'd do the same thing."

"No, Angela. I wouldn't." Sam replied softly, looking up to meet her shocked eyes. "Same circumstances… I wouldn't."

Angela stood there in stunned silence for a few moments. She felt like she had just been slapped in the face. Sam stared down at the table silently.

"Angie…" Dean started.

Angela cleared her throat and picked Grace up. "I'm putting Gracie to bed. Goodnight, Dean."

Dean waited for Angela to leave before glaring at Sam. "You know, for someone who went to Stanford, you're pretty stupid."

"Excuse me?" Sam asked, clearly offended.

"You heard me." Dean snapped. "Angie has stood by your side through _everything._ Any other sane person would have turned the other way and ran."

"Dean—

"Shut up. I'm not done." Dean cut him off firmly. "She took you back after you cheated on her with Ruby. She stood by your decision to let Lucifer possess you even though it killed her inside. You slept with god knows how many women when you were soulless. You almost _beat her to death_ when you were soulless, and she forgave you and assured you that it wasn't your fault." He ranted. "So, for you to say that you would just let her die… I should deck you in the face on principle. Now, I'm going to make sure that she doesn't pack up and leave."

Dean stood up, but before he could walk through the doorway, Sam stopped him.

"You… you think she'd leave?" Sam asked, brows furrowed.

Dean scoffed audibly. "I don't know. Probably not, that's not the kind of person she is. But, if she _was_ thinking of leaving, I wouldn't blame her."


	27. Captives Part 1

_Lebanon, Kansas_

Dean was lying on his bed, eyes closed, with headphones on. Suddenly, the music playing from his headphones turned into static. Dean's eyes flew open and he immediately took off his headphones and walked out into the hallway.

"Sam! Angie!" he yelled.

Sam bolted out of his bedroom and Angela came out of the room she was sleeping in.

"Dean?" Sam and Angela called out simultaneously.

Sam and Angela rushed to Dean's bedroom but saw that it was empty. The lights throughout the bunker started to flicker.

"Dean?" Sam yelled.

Sam and Angela rushed to the main room and saw one of the chairs spinning on its own. Sam and Angela each grabbed an iron sword from the wall, an apparition following close behind them. Before they could swing around the apparition was blown to bits. The couple whipped around and Dean stood in the doorway with a smoking shotgun.

"So…" Angela trailed off.

"Yep." Dean pursed his lips. "Bunker's haunted."

~/~\~

Sam was packing rock salt rounds at the kitchen table when Dean and Angela walked in. Angela held Grace in her arms.

"How is this possible?" Dean frowned. "I thought you said this was the safest place on the planet."

"Look, I know nothing got in," Sam replied. "I mean, the bunker is warded and sigiled from top to bottom. There's _no way_ something came in from the outside."

"Okay, so whoever's haunting us died here," Angela concluded.

"What, dead man of letters?" Sam quirked a brow.

"No, that doesn't track." Dean shook his head. "I mean, we're the first people to occupy this place in 50 years. Why would a ghost wait so long to get its spook on?"

"Must have been a more recent death," Sam suggested.

"No," Angela replied firmly, knowing what Sam was alluding to.

"How can you be so sure?" Sam countered.

"Because Dean and I burned his body ourselves," Angela replied. "It's _not_ him."

"Okay, so you guys cremated him. We cremated Bobby, too, and he came back." Sam argued.

"Sam, I'm telling you—this ghost, it's not Kevin," Angela assured.

Suddenly, the coffeemaker next to Angela started going crazy with lights flashing on and off. Dean, Sam, and Angela stared at the coffeemaker with wide eyes.

"Kevin?" Sam asked quietly.

In response, a coffee mug next to the machine exploded.

"Ooh," Dean muttered.

~/~\~

"Anything?" Angela asked as she walked into the kitchen with Grace in her arms.

"Eh, a couple of dings. A little EMF activity, but mostly… silence." Sam replied.

"So, he's back in the veil." Angela sighed heavily.

"I guess so." Sam nodded. "Fumbling to break through. I mean, you got to figure it took Bobby _months_ to make contact."

"Kevin's only… He's new at this." Angela whispered.

"Right." Sam nodded as he got up and took Grace from Angela. "Alright, you're up."

As Sam left the room with Grace, Angela sat down and stared at the coffeemaker.

"Kevin?" she asked softly. "Kevin. Alright, I can't do this. Coffee-buzzing, bump-in-the-night crap. I have serious things to say to you, okay? And I'm not saying them to this."

Angela got up and turned her back on the coffeemaker.

"Kevin, honey, I'm sorry." She continued. "You did not choose this life. You busted your ass, you lost everything, everyone you've loved… And your reward? Getting _killed…_ on my watch. If I… It was on me. It was my fault, and…"

Angela closed her eyes and let out a shaky breath. The lights started to flicker behind her.

"And there's _nothing_ I can do to make that right." Her voice cracked. "I am so sorry."

Sam and Dean rushed into the kitchen.

"Hey, did you see that?" Sam questioned. "The—the lights were…"

Sam stopped and looked across the room, the ghostly apparition finally started to take shape.

"No, this is not happening," Kevin muttered to himself. "Didn't spend months struggling to break through the veil just to get stuck listening to Angela Winchester having a self-pity session. Didn't hear enough of those when I was alive."

"Kevin?" Dean asked quietly.

Kevin looked up, clearly shocked. "You can see me?"

"Hey, take it easy, Kevin," Sam replied softly. "You might not hold this form for long, okay? I-it takes a while."

"Then we should talk fast," Kevin replied.

"Wait, wait, wait," Dean stopped him. "Why aren't you in—in Heaven? I mean, if anybody deserves an express pass to paradise—

"I couldn't. I can't. No one cane. Heaven's closed for business." Kevin explained sadly. "Everyone who's died since the angels fell are just stuck inside the veil, waiting. And it's bad in here. Like DMV-line-times-infinity bad."

"Well, I mean, what can we do?" Angela's brows furrowed.

"I need a favor—a big one," Kevin answered.

"Okay." Sam nodded.

"Find my mother," Kevin instructed.

"Kevin," Sam replied sadly.

"Crowley only told you she was alive to mess with you," Angela added gently.

"I'm not going off his word. Alright? I have my own sources." Kevin explained. "It's crowded in the veil. All of us are stuck near the sites of our deaths. But I've been able to pass messages spirit to spirit. I made contact with another new arrival. She said she saw my mom just a week ago, alive."

"Okay, this—this spirit that you're playing ghost telephone with, I mean, what do you even know about her?" Dean raised his brows.

"Her name's Candy. Says she's in a forest in Wichita." Kevin answered.

"Candy?" Dean asked skeptically.

"That's it? That's all you got?" Sam added.

"Long-distance communication within the veil—it's not ideal. That's why I need you to go there, summon her, see what else she knows." Kevin replied before turning to Angela. "You say you want to make it right? This is how."

~/~\~

_Wichita, Kansas_

Sam, Dean, and Angela were walking through the woods by a train trestle. Sam carried Grace who was bundled up in a coat, gloves, and hat.

"Alright, that's the trestle." Sam started. "Candy said her spirit was stuck nearby."

"She died here?" Dean asked.

"Yeah." Angela nodded.

"What got her? A bear?" Dean scoffed lightly.

"I'm still stuck on the fact that we're trying to summon a ghost named Candy," Sam replied. "You know, just 'cause Kevin said he heard his mom is alive doesn't mean she—

"Hey, we at least owe it to the kid to try, right?" Angela interrupted.

Sam sighed and nodded. "What'd you bring?"

Angela rummaged through her bag and pulled out a radio and hung it on a nail on a tree. "Well, she's only been dead a week, right? So, I figured she could use as much help as she can get, so…" she trailed off as she pulled the coffeemaker from her bag.

"Really?" Sam quirked a brow.

"Whatever works." Angela shrugged.

~/~\~

"You feel that?" Sam asked. "I think I felt a chill."

"Yeah. It's 'cause it's cold." Dean retorted.

Angela dialed her phone and waited to leave a message. "Crowley, it's Angela. Call me when you get this."

"Really, Angela?" Sam scoffed as he adjusted Grace in his arms.

"What?" Angela's brows furrowed.

"That's your _third_ unanswered voicemail. You ever think maybe he's just not that into you?" Sam teased.

Angela rolled her eyes. "Well, he is our last confirmed link to Ms. Tran. Yes, he is a flaming douche, but at least we know he's real."

"Which is more than we can say for this Candy no-show," Dean grumbled.

Suddenly, the radio on the tree buzzed to life and they could hear a woman's voice through the static. The three hunters jumped up to investigate.

"Candy?" Sam asked. "Are you—are you there? Is that you, Candy?"

 _"Hello? Hello?"_ Candy's voice came from the radio.

~/~\~

Dean was trying to adjust the radio buttons so they could hear Candy better.

"There. There. There. Stop. Stop. Stop." Sam said quickly. "Candy?"

 _"…in the box. They put me in the box."_ Candy's voice wavered. _"All of us in boxes, side by side. Me, Jerome, Linda."_

"Linda's…" Dean started.

"Ms. Tran." Sam finished.

"Candy, these boxes, where were they?" Angela asked.

 _"I don't know."_ Candy answered honestly. _"They were cold. Dark. There—there was a vent. We could talk to one another."_

"Okay, and the walls, can you describe them?" Sam asked.

 _"Bare. Cement. Except for the door."_ Candy replied. _"That was… metal, but… like, ridged."_

"Ridged?" Dean raised his brows. "You mean like corrugated?"

 _"Yeah!"_ Candy exclaimed. _"I tried to lift the door, but I couldn't. Locked from the outside."_

"Like a storage unit?" Dean muttered to Sam and Angela.

"Maybe." Angela nodded. "Candy, who was holding you there?"

 _"Two men. It was so dark in the box."_ Candy started. _"When they came, I could barely see. The—the first guy was British, I think. Kind of short, loved hearing himself talk."_

"Crowley." Sam rolled his eyes. "And what do they want?"

 _"Said I was worth more alive than dead. But he stopped coming."_ Candy's voice shook. _"Then it was just the other guy. We thought with just him… we'd try to escape. I ran so hard, so far, but…"_

"Candy? Candy, are you there?" Sam asked urgently. "What about Ms. Tran? Candy?"

 _"I don't know."_ Candy admitted. _"Maybe she survived."_

"Maybe? That's not what you told her son." Angela frowned.

 _"I said she was alive."_ Candy corrected. _"I don't know what happened after. For her sake, I hope she's dead."_


	28. Captives Part 2

"Okay, there are three storage facilities nearby." Sam started as Dean drove. "The closest one is about a mile up the road. Oh, and I, uh—I dug up some stuff on Candy." He added. "Turns out she was the kept woman of a powerful Congressman. Gossip blog said he worshipped the ground she walked on, _literally._ He, uh—had a foot fetish."

"So, Crowley was holding the beloved tootsies of a powerful politician?" Dean asked.

"And the beloved mother of a powerful Prophet," Angela added.

"Human leverage," Dean muttered. "But why kill Candy?"

"Well, you heard her." Sam reminded. "Uh, she tried to make a break for it. Maybe Crowley wanted to make an example."

"No. No." Angela shook her head. "The guy left in charge. Crowley wanted the victims alive."

Sam scoffed. "So, what, you want to give him a medal? I mean, Crowley's the one who put them in the cells in the first place."

"Yeah, I know," Angela replied. "I'm just talking it out. You know, working the case. Businesslike."

Sam just grunted and rolled his eyes.

~/~\~

Dean, Sam, and Angela walked into the storage facility. Angela held Grace, who was slightly restless.

"Let me guess—5'5", pasty white, black-rimmed hipster glasses just like the last place." Dean guessed.

Dean rang the bell and a guy exactly matching Dean's description popped up to help them.

"Nailed it," Dean muttered smugly.

"Can I help you?" Del asked.

"Yeah, hi." Dean greeted. "Agents Nicks, McVie, and Finn. Need to take a look at your, uh, rental records."

"Uh, my manager's not here," Del replied nervously. "I really don't think I should—

"Hey!" Dean snapped. "The records, pal."

"Yeah." Del nodded quickly. "Barry! Bring out the rental binder!"

Barry walked out holding a large binder in his hands and passed it to Dean.

"There you go, sir." Del smiled.

As Dean thumbed through the binder, Sam and Angela walked over to a map of the storage facility on the wall.

"Hey," Angela started. "Okay, check it out. Corridor 'Q.' Three adjacent units separate from the others. I mean, Candy said there were three hostages, right?"

"Yeah." Dean nodded. "Okay. It's all leased by the same guy—a D. Webster."

"D. Webster?" Sam raised his brows. "Wait. As in, like, Daniel Webster?"

"Well, I know a lame Crowley in-joke when I see one," Dean muttered.

"You guys say 'D. Webster'?" Del cut in suddenly.

"Yeah," Angela replied. "Yeah, you—you seen him?"

"Uh, no, just… I know his name from the records." Del replied. "He's leasing another unit on the other side of the facility. I could show you."

"Yeah. That'd be great." Angela replied before turning to Sam and Dean. "Alright, why don't you guys take corridor 'Q'? I'll go with, uh, Del."

Sam nodded and took Grace from Angela, adjusting her in his arms.

~/~\~

Angela and Del walked into another storage unit and Angela slowly walked through it. She picked up a scythe and looked it over.

"Hmm." She hummed.

~/~\~

Sam and Dean walked down Corridor 'Q'. Sam handed Grace to Dean and started to pick the lock on the last unit. As the door opened, Ms. Tran shrunk away in fright. Sam rushed to her.

"Ms. Tran! Ms. Tran! Hey! Hey!" he tried to calm her down. "Hey, it's me. It's Sam. It's Sam."

"Sam?" Ms. Tran asked. She looked over his shoulder to see Dean. "Dean?"

"Oh, my gosh," Sam muttered.

"Sam? We have to get out of here before it comes back." Ms. Tran stressed. "Is Kevin with you?"

~/~\~

Angela was still roaming the storage unit while Del watched Sam, Dean, and Ms. Tran on his phone through their unit's security camera. He locked the door from the phone, trapping them inside.

"Are you sure this is the one leased by Webster?" Angela raised her brows skeptically.

"Yeah, this is it." Del nodded.

Angela frowned when she saw a box that read _'Bob Gunderson.'_ "This isn't Crowley's unit."

Suddenly, Del pulled a knife from his belt and knocked Angela unconscious from behind.

~/~\~

Sam removed Ms. Tran's shackles with his Swiss army knife. "Here we go. Alright."

"Oh." Ms. Tran rubbed her wrists. "There's a—there's an electrical line, leads to the control panel."

Sam popped off the cover and a mess of wires fell out. "Okay, this might take a while."

Ms. Tran grabbed the Swiss army knife from Sam and started to work on the wires. "We have to unplug the ground wire first. If this is standard U.S. color coding, it should be the green one."

"Okay." Sam and Dean replied simultaneously.

"Helping Kevin with his engineering-club assignments, I picked up a thing or two." Ms. Tran explained. "I'm sure he insisted, but I trust you weren't foolish enough to bring Kevin along for this mission. That you left him someplace safe?"

Sam and Dean exchanged a sad look.

"Of course, Ms. Tran." Dean replied quietly.

"Good." Ms. Tran nodded. "Now all we have to do is get this door open, get the hell out of here, and you will bring me to my son."

Sam gently took Ms. Tran's hand in his. "Listen. Ms. Tran."

Ms. Tran looked up at Sam and her face completely shattered. He didn't even have to say anything before she broke down crying. She quickly steeled herself and went back to the wires.

"You will take me to my son." She repeated. "Flashlight. Flashlight!"

~/~\~

Angela started to regain consciousness and woke up to see Barry bleeding from his slashed through into a bowl.

"'Trust me,' he says. 'You definitely want to be a part of this—'a chance to get in on the ground floor of my operation, 'a real learning experience. Consider it a stepping stone, my lad—like an internship.'" Del muttered to himself. "Should've known. Internships suck."

Angela painfully sat up slightly. "So, you're the one. You're the one who Crowley left in charge."

"Yeah. What a privilege." Del scoffed. "Feeding the apes, hosing the floors, washing out the honey buckets, and for zero credit. The boss, M.I.A."

As Del spoke, Angela slowly moved her right leg up, Ruby's knife hidden in her boot. Angela pulled at her bonds trying to get her hands free.

"Too important to show for work, to even return my calls." Del continued. "And you know the worst part? I wasn't even allowed to kill anyone! I was told to protect them. I mean, how sick is that? Am I not a young, vital demon with basic demon needs and rights? And when I call Crowley to inform him that I've single-handedly caught the Winchesters, if he even answers my call, think I'll get a thank you? Ha!"

"Yeah, you're right, kid." Angela agreed. "He won't give you credit. If anything, he'll be pissed."

Del's face fell immediately. "What?"

"Well, me and Crowley, we're—we're tight now," Angela explained. "Thick as thieves. Saw him just last month. We, uh, had a grand ol' time."

"So, that's where he's been." Deal shook his head in disbelief. "Out partying with humans, with hunters?! While I languish here in this go-nowhere, no-kill joke of a job."

"Partying is a bit of an exaggeration," Angela muttered.

"This job blows!" Del ripped off his nametag angrily. "I quit."

~/~\~

Del straddled Angela on the floor and held a knife to her throat.

"Do you know how long it's been since I've done this?" Del asked quietly. "I thank you for reminding me what I truly am."

Del dug the knife into Angela's throat right below her ear and dragged it an inch or two. Blood started to seep out of the gash. Del raised the knife and went to stab Angela in the heart, but at the second, Sam burst through the door and rushed for Del. Angela kicked Del away and Sam knocked him against a shelf.

~/~\~

Angela held Grace in her arms as Dean inspected the wound on her neck.

"You good, kid?" he asked quietly.

"I'll be fine," Angela assured, giving Dean a soft smile.

Del was on his knees, looking up at Sam. "Do it. Kill me."

"No," Sam held up Ruby's knife. "We're saving you for someone else."

"Crowley." Del guessed.

"Much worse." Sam retorted.

Sam held the knife out and Ms. Tran sauntered in.

"Do the honors, Ms. Tran," Dean instructed.

"With pleasure." Ms. Tran practically growled.

Del stared up at her with wide eyes. "Hey, lady. I swear. I was just following ord—

Ms. Tran stabbed Del in the heart, effectively shutting him up. She turned to look at the Winchesters. "Take me to my son."

~/~\~

Sam, Dean, and Angela walked through the main room of the bunker.

"Kevin? You here?" Dean called out. "Kev?"

"Well?" Kevin asked once he appeared.

"We got her," Angela replied as she adjusted Grace in her arm. "She's alive. She's here, hon. But we wanted to give you a moment to… You know, process."

"Oh." Kevin nodded. "I, uh… Does she know?"

"Kevin?" Ms. Tran's voice cracked as she walked up behind him. "Hello, son."

Kevin turned around and smiled gently. "Hey, Mom."

"Oh," Ms. Tran started to cry.

~/~\~

Ms. Tran and Dean stood at one of the tables, going through Kevin's belongings.

"So, this is, uh—this is all of it," Dean commented. "You know, hunter's tools—notebooks, papers, pencils, P.S.A.T. results. Perfect score. Way to go, kid."

Ms. Tran took a gold ring out of a box. "This." She whispered. "This is it. His father's. Mr. Tran died when Kevin was a baby. It's the only piece of his father Kevin ever had. If Kevin's s-spirit is bound to some object here… This is it."

"Listen, Ms. Tran," Dean sighed heavily. "There's a lot that we don't know about this Heaven situation. There are risks to taking Kevin home with you. Now, spirits, the longer that they're in the veil, they have a way of… Well, it doesn't end up well."

"He's my son." Ms. Tran replied firmly. "It's my job to keep him safe for as long as I can."

~/~\~

Kevin stood at the foot of the stairs in front of the Winchesters.

"She was held and tortured for a year because of me," Kevin whispered. "Now that I found her, I'm not letting her out of my sight. She's my responsibility."

"And you were ours. And we failed you." Sam replied sadly. "I—

"Sam," Kevin cut him off. "I know that wasn't you. Go put a blade in that asshat who possessed you and we'll call it square."

Sam just nodded gratefully in response.

"Guys. Thank you." Kevin added sincerely.

"You can thank us when we get you to Heaven where you belong," Dean replied. "Okay, until then, enjoy your time with your mom. The, uh, uninterrupted, 24/7, no-escape quality time."

"Dick." Kevin smiled widely. "Hey, before I go… Will you guys promise me something?"

"Yeah." Dean nodded.

"Of course, hon," Angela replied.

"Anything," Sam added.

"Can you three… Get over it?" Kevin asked. "Just 'cause you couldn't see me doesn't mean I couldn't see you. The drama, the fighting… It's stupid. My mom's taking home a ghost. You guys… You're all still here."

"Of course. Promise." Sam replied quietly.

"Yeah." Dean nodded.

"Of course, hon." Angela murmured.

"Good." Kevin nodded.

Kevin and Ms. Tran walked up the stairs and out the front door.

"Well, that was…" Angela started as she turned around, but Sam was already halfway out of the room. "Yeah, okay." She muttered, running a hand over her face.


	29. THINMAN Part 1

_Lebanon, Kansas_

Sam and Dean sat in the library doing some research while Grace played on her activity mat. Angela walked into the room with a duffle bag slung over her shoulder.

Grace looked up and clapped her hands. "Mama!"

Angela walked over and leaned down to kiss the top of Grace's head. She turned her attention to Sam and Dean.

"Alright," she started. "I'll be back."

"Wait." Dean's brows furrowed. "Where you headed, kid?"

"Washington." Angela shrugged. "I caught a case."

"You want us to come with?" Sam raised his brows.

Angela tilted her head slightly. "Do you want to come, Sam?"

"On a hunt? Why wouldn't I?" Sam retorted.

"I don't know, Sam. 'Cause lately with you, up is down and down is sideways, you know?" Angela shrugged. "I don't know what you want."

"Why don't you guys go to Washington, a-and I'll stay back here with Gracie?" Dean intervened.

"Okay. Fine." Angela nodded as she pulled a paper from her bag and slid it over to Sam. "Photo leaked from the crime scene. A girl was murdered in her room, doors were locked, the windows were locked."

Sam looked at the selfie the girl took and noticed the figure in the background. "Who's the wallflower?"

"Exactly," Angela replied. "Best guess—ghost caught on film. So, you're coming?"

Sam started gathering his things. "Does it look like I'm staying?"

~/~\~

_Springdale, Washington_

In the girl's house, Sam and Angela stood talking to her mother. There was a large bloodstain on the carpet. Mrs. Miles just stared at the stain as she spoke.

"I scrubbed for hours." She murmured. "I'll have to rip up the carpet. My daughter, Casey… She picked out the color herself."

"We're… very sorry for your loss, Mrs. Miles," Sam replied sincerely. "You mentioned Casey had no known enemies. What about at home? Anything unusual you may have noticed? Uh… Electricity acting up or lights… flickering, TV on the fritz?"

"No, no fritzing." Mrs. Miles shook her head. "No cold spots, either."

Angela's brows furrowed in confusion. "Sorry. Out of curiosity, uh… Why do you mention cold spots?"

"I'm sorry." Mrs. Miles apologized. "That must sound strange, but… it's been three days since… And the police have found nothing. I'd h—I'd have to sell my house to afford a private investigator, so when the Supernaturalists called—

"I'm sorry, the… Um… Supernaturalists?" Angela asked with a frown.

"I know to the FBI it's not exactly orthodox. But these men had answers that no one else had, and I—I owe it to Casey… to listen." Mrs. Miles explained.

"No, they—they brought up cold spots in relation to…?" Sam trailed off.

"Signs of the paranormal, I suppose." Mrs. Miles replied. "They're coming by today to take a look."

"And did these Supernaturalists give you a name?" Angela questioned.

~/~\~

Sam and Angela walked up to a large white van that had _'Ghostfacers'_ written across in large letters.

"Dammit." Angela rolled her eyes in annoyance.

~/~\~

Sam and Angela walked into the diner, immediately spotting Ed and Harry. They slid into the booth with them, annoyed expressions on their faces.

"Ah, the Winchesters. Yay." Harry commented sarcastically.

"Says, nobody," Ed added.

"Ever," Harry muttered. "Where's the other one?"

"Alright, shut up and listen." Angela started. "This is how it's gonna go. You two clowns are gonna get into that mystery machine outside, and you're gonna leave town or I'm gonna put holes in your knees."

Ed and Harry rolled their eyes as the waiter walked up.

"Can I get you guys anything?" he chirped. "Something, uh…"

"Uh, we're ready for the bill." Angela forced a smile.

"Hey." Trey interrupted. "There's still crud on this plate. Now, hit the sinks and do it right."

"Sorry, Trey." The waiter mumbled as he left.

"Ahh, first of all, you guys don't scare us," Harry told Sam and Angela.

"Not at all," Ed added.

Harry lifted his shirt to reveal a gun in his waistband. "Say, 'hola' to my little pistola."

Angela raised her brows slightly. "Am I supposed to be impressed with that treasure trail or the lady gun you got hiding in your, uh, pants there?"

"Uh… Both?" Harry replied uncertainly. "Look, whether you like it or not, we are handling this situation."

"Yup." Ed agreed.

"Really?" Angela asked skeptically.

"Mm-hmm." Ed hummed.

"Right." Angela pursed her lips tightly. "Because I see a couple of fame whores who are pointing their camera at a mom who just lost her kid."

"Guys, we are investigators, and we have every right—

"No." Angela interrupted firmly. "No, you don't. You know why? Because you're just gonna get in our way."

"Or you're gonna get somebody else killed," Sam added.

"That's right." Angela agreed. "So, you can either walk out of here… or crawl. Up to you."

"Oh, my God." Harry rolled his eyes dramatically. "Will you guys relax? We know what we're doing."

"Yup." Ed nodded.

"Really? And what about the rest of the Bad News Bears, huh?" Angela tilted her head. "Where's the—where's the fat one? And—and the girl? There was a girl, right?"

Ed shifted uncomfortably. "They—we dropped them. They were—they were dead weight."

"Well, t-they're still alive," Harry added quickly.

"They're—no, they're totally alive," Ed confirmed.

"I see." Angela nodded. "So, it's just the, uh, the dumpy duo, then. Well, that's great. So, here's the deal. A ghost… Will land you two dead in five seconds flat."

"A ghost?" Harry chuckled mockingly. "Oh. They think it's a ghost. It's so _not_ a ghost."

"No," Ed added.

"Okay." Sam frowned deeply. "We'll bite. What do you think it is?"

"Can I—can I do it this time?" Harry asked excitedly.

"You got it." Ed nodded.

"Okay." Harry turned his attention to the couple. "I've waited all my life for this. Amazon me, bitches."

Angela was beyond annoyed at this point. "I will shoot you… Bitches."

"Like we were saying," Sam cut in. "You were just going, right? Great."

"Good talk," Angela added before she and Sam got up to leave.

~/~\~

Back at the motel, Sam was reading off the laptop while Angela took off her blazer.

"Uh… Angela?" Sam asked, his brows raised.

"Yeah?" she replied.

"Ed and Harry wrote a book," Sam replied.

Angela's brows furrowed. "What?"

"Yeah. Uh, 'The Skinny on Thinman,' by American's foremost Supernaturalists." Sam read aloud.

Angela looked even more confused. "What the hell's a Thinman?"

"I don't know. Uh…" Sam mumbled as he pulled up a photo. "Whoa. Check that out, though. That does kind of look like whatever was behind Casey Miles, right?"

Angela leaned over Sam's shoulder to get a good look. "Or Garth if somebody shaved his face off. Big whoop."

"Here we go." Sam continued. "Uh, 'Thinman—' an urban legend started on the world wide web—lurks in the background of his victims' lives until he's ready to kill them."

"Yeah, because everything started on the internet is true." Angela retorted sarcastically. "Like, uh, ok, the shark attacking a helicopter—they write a book on that one, too?"

"Look, real or not, thousands of people have posted to the site," Sam explained. "It's like Thinman is the new Bigfoot or something."

"Or Thinman is just a ghost with a brand name," Angela argued.

"You saying that 'cause you really think it's a ghost or because you don't like the Ghostfacers?" Sam questioned.

"Hey, don't forget—we hit EMF in Casey's room." Angela retorted.

"Right, but the house was next door to power lines, which can affect the read." Sam shrugged.

"A girl died in a locked room, Sam—spells 'ghost' right there." Angela folded her arms across her chest.

"Maybe it got in there before it was locked up." Sam shrugged. "Who knows, Angela? But how can people all over the world see the same ghost? Spirits don't exactly hop around."

"I know that." Angela huffed. "But right now, the veil is all kinds of screwed, okay? Ghosts could be popping up anywhere."

"Yeah, but, Angela, Thinman sightings date back a couple years," Sam replied. "The veil's only been a problem for, what, the last six months?"

Angela pulled a laptop out of her bag and sat at the other table. "Well, you know, people still see Elvis all over the damn place. Look, all I'm saying is those douche bags aren't experts on anything."

"What are you doing?" Sam sighed heavily.

"I'm checking the local deaths to see if there's any candidates for ghosts," Angela replied.

~/~\~

"Okay," Angela started. "Alright, over the past six months, there have been three unnatural deaths in Springdale, none of them connected to Casey Miles, and none of them violent."

"Okay, that's not exactly a recipe for a vengeful spirit," Sam replied. "There have been a bunch of unexplained deaths pinned on Thinman. Um, a vic dies, then, a couple weeks later, a photo pops up of the vic with Thinman photobombing."

"So, Thinman's stalking people?" Angela asked.

"According to the lore." Sam nodded.

"According to the idiots." Angela corrected. "How come none of these vics pinged our radar?"

"I'm pretty sure the mysterious deaths can be chalked up to non-supernatural causes," Sam replied. "That, and, honestly, most of these photos look pretty fake."

"Even Casey's?" Angela raised her brows.

"Except Casey's," Sam replied. "Casey's photo _wasn't_ doctored. Whatever was behind her was really there."

"Okay, well, that doesn't make any sense," Angela muttered. "I mean, how could something be both real and fake at the same time?"

"Well, a girl is dead, and that's about as real as it gets." Sam sighed heavily.

"Alright, so the last thing she did was she took a photo on her phone," Angela noted. "How did that photo end up online?"

"No clue," Sam admitted. "It was originally posted to a Thinman fan forum, but the I.P. address was blocked."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait." Angela stopped Sam. "This thing has fans? Of course, it does. Okay, well, then somebody wanted this photo on the internet, and I'm guessing that the ghost didn't hop online to post it."

~/~\~

At the police station, Sam and Angela stood at the front counter as Deputy Norwood brought over a case file box.

"Is the, uh, sheriff around?" Angela asked curiously. "There's a couple questions we'd like to ask him."

"Uh, sorry to disappoint. Sheriff's on a hunting trip." Deputy Norwood replied. "But, uh, I appreciate you agents being here. I could use all the help I can get."

Sam picked up Casey's phone in an evidence bag. "Wait a second. Was this cracked when you found it?"

"Yeah, man. Maybe she dropped it?" Deputy Norwood suggested. "911 call went dead at 11:59."

"Wait, what time was the photo posted?" Angela asked.

"Around 2:00 a.m." Sam muttered.

"But the coroner has the death at midnight." Angela frowned. "How could she have posted the photo from her phone? That—that's impossible."

"Or… supernatural." Deputy Norwood cut in.

"What?" Angela questioned.

"Why would you say that?" Sam added quickly.

"A couple fellas came by, uh, asking questions about the girl's death, suggested they might be able to help." Deputy Norwood explained. "They, uh, gave me a book they wrote about, uh…"

"Thinman?" Angela finished.

"Yeah." Deputy Norwood nodded. "Just…"

Before he could finish, Angela turned around and walked away angrily.

"Not a fan?" Deputy Norwood pointed after Angela.

~/~\~

Sam and Angela walked into the diner, only to see the Ghostfacers taking film of Trey's body.

"Agents, thanks for coming." Deputy Norwood greeted.

"What are these two morons doing here?" Angela nodded toward the Ghostfacers.

"I figured it wouldn't hurt to go a little _'Medium,'_ you know?" Deputy Norwood chuckled. "Uh… two counties over, folks were combing the place for a poor little dead boy back in August. The cops let a psychic do her thing. Shish, bang, boom—found a body a day later."

"Uh-huh," Angela muttered. "Excuse me."

"Is there any, uh, security-cam footage?" Sam asked the deputy.

"Uh, yeah, just…"

Angela walked over to the Ghostfacers and slapped Harry's butt. "Hey!"

"Aah!" Ed and Harry yelped in surprise.

"I thought I told you to beat it." Angela glared.

"Oh, well, what are you gonna do." Harry shrugged. "You gonna out me, 'agent'?"

"Okay, look, playing paparazzi at a crime scene—who does that help but yourselves?" Angela practically hissed.

"The bloggers, Angela, the believers—everyone who needs just a little proof to know that Thinman is out there," Harry explained.

"Wait, so, you're saying there's a lot of people online that are pretty die-hard about this thing?" Angela quirked a brow.

"Oh, yeah." Harry nodded.

"Oh, yeah. Uh-huh." Ed smirked.

"You throw the right Tibetan symbol into the mix, you dumb asses ever think the Thinman comes to life as a Tulpa?" Angela questioned.

"Because thousands of people can agree that Thinman is any one thing? The lore changes blog to blog." Ed explained. "He's not a Tulpa."

"Okay, alright. Alright." Angela rolled her eyes. "Right here, right now, cut the crap. Do either of you actually know what Thinman is?"

"No. We just play Supernaturalists on TV." Ed deadpanned.

"We have no idea what we're doing… Of course, we do!" Harry exclaimed.

"Thinman, is part man, part tree," Ed added.

"Some people believe that he emerged from the nightmare of an autistic boy," Harry explained.

"Alright, so you have no idea." Angela scoffed.

"You guys are gonna want to see this." Deputy Norwood interrupted.

Angela, Ed, and Harry walked over to where Sam had been viewing security tapes with Deputy Norwood.

"Alright, check this out." Sam pressed replay.

"Whoa." Ed and Harry whispered.

"Alright, so, how did he jump from the parking lot to the diner?" Angela asked. "The doors were locked, right?"

"The footage shows Trey locked them 10 minutes before." Deputy Norwood confirmed.

"Locked, not locked, it doesn't matter. Everyone knows Thinman can teleport." Harry commented.

"I didn't even get a blip on my EMF," Ed added.

"So, maybe it's not a ghost," Angela admitted.

"You Feds believers now?" Deputy Norwood raised his brows.

"Okay, uh… We're gonna go. Uh, good work, deputy, agents. Let's go. Let's go, man." Ed rushed.

"Let's see it again." Angela motioned to the tapes.

~/~\~

Angela and Sam were sitting in their motel room eating dinner.

"Okay," Sam started. "Just grasping at straws here, but when I think 'teleport,' I think 'crossroads demon.'"

"Mm." Angela hummed. "Demons that likes to stab and watch YouTube. Why not?"

"Oh, by the way, speaking of which, the video of, uh, Trey getting knifed is already online," Sam noted. "It has, like, 2,000 views. It's like somebody wants people to see Thinman in action."

"It's 'cause people will watch, 'cause people are sick," Angela muttered.

"And when did 'viral' go from that baby chimp falling out of a tree to killer 'Candid Camera'?" Sam scoffed lightly.

Angela smiled softly. "You know what would have gone viral if I had taken a video? When you had lost that lucky rabbit foot."

Sam grinned at the memory. "I completely forgot about that."

"You totally klutzed out." Angela giggled. "And when you lost your shoe!"

Sam chuckled softly. "Yeah, not my finest moment."

"Yeah." Angela murmured fondly. "Hm, good times."

"Yeah, they were," Sam replied, suddenly sobering up.

A knock on the door suddenly interrupted their thoughts. Angela got up to answer it but before she could reach the door, Ed came barging in.

"Come on in," Angela muttered, exasperated.

"I got to tell you guys something important, and then the case is yours." Ed rushed.

~/~\~

Ed sat on one of the motel beds. "Alright, either you bleed Ghostfacers red or you don't. If Spruce wanted to start a startup and Maggie's heart was in the roller derby, who am I to stop them? But Harry—I-I couldn't let him give into his girl." He explained. "I mean, she—she called the Ghostfacers stupid. Stupid! Can you—can you believe that? You know, I-I don't care how much money her daddy's hedge fund has. I just couldn't watch Harry become a corporate stooge."

"Okay, this all sounds like sad times at Bitchmont High," Angela replied, clearly losing her patience. "What does this have to do with the case?"

Ed shifted uncomfortably. "Harry was gonna leave, so I needed to give him a reason to stay. I-I made up Thinman."

Sam and Angela just stared at Ed with shocked faces.

"So, you're saying that this crap is _actually_ crap?" Angela raised her brows.

"One old photo of a butler, a lot of Photoshop later, and I posted on one of those horror forums under 'anonymous'. And it blew up." Ed explained guiltily. "Yeah. I only faked one case for us, and then we're packing up to go home when somebody posted a sighting of Thinman, so… we went after it, and that's how the Thinman became a crowdsourced legend. Look, we were at the front of it. It felt like something. It—it was so awesome to have a following, and Harry—he was just—he was so into it."

"Ed, you have to tell him," Sam replied firmly.

"You don't get it." Ed shook his head sadly. "We were the Thinman guys. Without the Thinman, we're just… guys—just—we're just puffs."

"What?" Angela's brows furrowed in confusion.

"If I tell Harry, he's gonna leave the Ghostfacers." Ed sighed heavily.

"Listen, if you don't tell him, he's gonna leave anyway," Sam replied. "Trust me here. Secrets _ruin_ relationships."

Angela glanced at Sam and shifted on her feet uncomfortably.

"Okay, well, I'll just tell him when the time is right," Ed replied.

"Time's right now, hon," Angela said softly.

"Well, he's—he's not here." Ed stammered. "Uh, he's—he's out in the woods, uh, searching for Thinman."

Sam huffed slightly. "Okay, because Thinman, or _whatever the hell_ this thing is, has killed two people, and now Harry is in the woods alone."

"Well, actually, it's more like 'wood,' um, 'cause I dropped him off by some trees behind a grocery store," Ed explained. "Guys, come on. He's gonna be fine. Guys?"

~/~\~

Sam and Angela, followed by Ed, rushed out of the motel room.

~/~\~

Harry reached the parking lot clutching his side and was almost ran over by the Impala. Angela, Sam, and Ed jumped out and Harry almost fainted from blood loss. However, Sam and Angela managed to catch him in time.


	30. THINMAN Part 2

Sam worked carefully as he patched up Harry's wound and dressed it. "Too tight?"

"Nope." Harry shook his head. "No, I'm good. I'm good."

"Yeah?" Sam raised his brows slightly.

"I'm good," Harry assured. "Alright. I think I'm just gonna have to staple it when we get back to the motel." He added before turning to Ed. "We were right, Ed! Thinman's real."

"Yeah," Ed replied quietly.

Angela jogged up from the woods. "I found some fresh tire tracks back over there. I took some photos."

"What for?" Harry asked in confusion.

"Because that car might belong to whoever knifed you," Angela replied.

"Well, whoever cut me was Thinman, and Thinman doesn't drive," Harry explained. "It was Thinman! I mean, I shouldn't have to connect the dots for you guys. I figured, you know, you're both intelligent, m-maybe."

Sam and Angela both pointedly looked at Ed, silently urging him to tell Harry the truth.

"Um, Harry." Ed cleared his throat nervously.

"What?" Harry frowned.

~/~\~

Ed walked out of the motel room and met Sam outside the door.

"Hey." Sam greeted. "How did it go?"

"It, um, went, uh… Um…" Ed whispered.

He walked off in silence, leaving Sam alone. Sam opened the door and walked in to check on Harry.

"Hey." He sighed softly. "You okay?"

"I just got punched right in the feels," Harry replied with tears in his eyes.

"Um…" Sam trailed off, unsure of how to respond.

"None of it was real, Sam," Harry whispered. "Ed was just pretending, and now he wants me to pretend, like this is just something I could get past."

"I know what you mean." Sam sympathized. "Look, there are things you can forgive, and there are things you can't."

"So, which one is this?" Harry asked.

"That's something you got to figure out for yourself," Sam replied gently.

Angela knocked on the door and walked into the room. "Hey. Uh… I got a beat on those tire treads, if you want to…"

Sam stepped into the hallway with Angela and folded his arms across his chest.

"What's up?" Sam sighed.

"So, the tires were only made for one kind of car," Angela started. "It's a 1989 Geo Metro. Town this small—there's only one registered here. Deputy says it belongs to a guy named Roger who works night security down at the mill on the north side of town."

"So, this thing teleported, but it has a job and car," Sam muttered. "What are we dealing with?"

"Let's go find out," Angela replied.

~/~\~

Angela and Sam pulled up to the mill and saw that Deputy Norwood was already there.

"I thought we said my partner and I would take care of this," Angela said as she got out of the car.

"Look, guys, my boss is AWOL." Deputy Norwood replied. "We don't have a warrant. My ass is on the line if this thing goes sideways."

"Alright. Just stay back." Angela instructed.

Sam went to pick the lock on the mill but quickly realized that the door was already open. Sam and Angela drew their guns as they entered. However, before they could do anything, Deputy Norwood tasered them from behind.

"Always wanted to use these things." Deputy Norwood smirked evilly.

~/~\~

Angela was handcuffed to a chair in front of a woodsy tapestry hanging from the ceiling. Sam was handcuffed to a column off to the side. Deputy Norwood hummed as he buzzed around the room, setting up lights and a camera.

"So, you're Thinman, huh?" Angela asked once she regained consciousness. "That would make sense if it didn't look like you just ate a fat camp."

Deputy Norwood just continued to hum without answering Angela.

"Oh, God, Sam, make him stop." Angela groaned.

"Hey, so, what's the deal?" Sam questioned. "What are you, Norwood? You a demon? I mean, how did you teleport back at the diner?"

"Team effort." Deputy Norwood replied vaguely.

Thinman walked around a corner and Sam and Angela stared. Thinman then lifted his hands and removed a mask, revealing the waiter from the diner.

"So, there was no teleporting." Angela realized. "Just a couple of douche bags doing the _'Scream'_ thing."

"Wait, I know who you are." Sam narrowed his eyes. "You're the busboy from the diner. So, what, you just wanted to kill your boss?"

"Trey was a dick." Roger defended.

"And what about Casey? What did she do?" Angela glared.

Roger smirked sadistically. "She wouldn't go out with me, so I set her up with someone else—my knife."

"Good one, Rog." Deputy Norwood laughed.

Angela noticed another body lying off to the side. "I see the sheriff didn't make it out of town."

"Well, he really should have given me the time off I asked for." Deputy Norwood replied.

"So, you _killed_ him?!" Sam asked incredulously.

"I didn't _kill_ anyone. Roger did." Deputy Norwood corrected. "He's the psycho. I'm the visionary. I don't blame you for underestimating me. Everybody does. Fancy Fed, coming in here, treating me like a paper monkey from the get-go. But I was Thinman the whole time. Do you have any idea how good that felt?"

"No, sicko, I can't say that I do." Angela retorted.

"Yeah, Barbie doesn't know what it's like to feel invisible—to grow up in a town of 300 people and nobody sees you." Roger scoffed.

"They didn't see us." Deputy Norwood snarled.

Sam was working on breaking out of his handcuffs with his lock pick tools he was able to reach in his back pocket. When Angela looked over Sam motioned to her with his eyes.

"So, how did you two meet? ?" Angela tilted her head.

"No." Deputy Norwood shook his head. "Just a couple of schmoes in an empty bar. We hit it off. Turns out me and Rog—we're both total conspiracy-theory junkies."

"And then we found Thinman," Roger continued. "And, bam, we blew up all over the message boards."

"So, what is this, then? Some sort of twisted cosplay?" Sam's brows furrowed.

"Cosreal. You know, blogging was fun, but…" Roger trailed off.

"But, let me guess, you wanted something more." Sam finished.

"You realize what you two jackasses are doing doesn't make you Thinman," Angela added. "It makes you copycat killers."

"It makes me Thinman," Roger growled. "And you're not telling anyone I'm not, 'cause you'll be too dead to talk."

Deputy Norwood moved back to the camera. "Showtime."

"You two are lucky ducks," Roger smirked. "You're the stars of our best video yet. And when it goes viral, _everyone_ will know Thinman's real."

Roger moved behind Angela and put his mask back on. Sam started to struggle harder when he realized what was about to take place. Angela realized what was going to happen and started to steel herself for the worst.

"And… Action!" Deputy Norwood directed.

Roger drew his knife and yanked Angela back to slice her throat.

"Wait, no, no, no. Don't!" Sam yelled in a panic.

Suddenly, a door was slammed somewhere in the mill and Roger stopped his knife. Roger and Deputy Norwood walked out of the room.

~/~\~

Roger and Deputy Norwood walked Ed and Harry back to where Sam and Angela were tied up. However, when they got back to the room, Sam and Angela were gone and their handcuffs were on the chairs.

"No." Roger frowned deeply.

As they stood there in shock, Sam and Angela attacked. Angela grappled with Roger and stabbed him with his own knife. Sam knocked Deputy Norwood to the ground but he was able to draw his gun on Sam. Ed immediately stepped into the path of the gun.

"Wait, no! No! No, look. Look at me." Ed pleaded. "This is all my fault. Okay? It's all my fault."

Deputy Norwood grinned evilly. "I got enough bullets for both of you."

Suddenly, a shot rang out and Deputy Norwood dropped dead from a gunshot to the chest. Everyone looked up to see Harry holding the smoking gun.

~/~\~

Angela was loading the trunk of the Impala outside the mill when Sam walked over.

"So, are we good in there?" he asked.

"Yeah." Angela nodded. "With the Thinman footage and the way I set the bodies, there should be enough breadcrumbs to make it look like those two psychos offed each other."

"They were just people," Sam commented. "They weren't… demons. They weren't monsters. They… were just frickin' people."

"Yeah, well, people are sick, Sam," Angela replied softly.

Harry walked up to Sam and Angela, a glum expression on his face.

"Can I get a ride from you guys?" he asked quietly.

"Yeah, sure." Angela nodded.

The three of them got into the Impala and drove away, leaving Ed standing by the Ghostfacers van with tears in his eyes.

~/~\~

Angela turned in the passenger seat slightly. "Harry, you okay?"

"Yeah." Harry lied. "I mean, no. You roll with a guy so many years, you start to think he's always gonna be next to you. Like, when you're old and you're drinking on the porch, he'll be in that other rocking chair. And then something happens, and you realize that other chair has gone empty."

Sam and Angela both had intense looks on their faces. Clearly, they understood what Harry was saying a little too well.

"You know what I mean?" Harry asked, breaking the silence.


	31. Blade Runners Part 1

_Lebanon, Kansas_

Sam, Dean, Angela, and Grace were in the library. Grace was playing on her activity mat while Sam and Dean browsed the internet on their laptops. Angela was pacing, her phone held to her ear.

"Come on, Crowley." She started, clearly annoyed. "Pick up! Where the hell is he? It's not like he's got a social life."

Sam looked up from his computer, his brows furrowing a bit. "Uh, are you actually worried?"

 _"Too busy inflicting pain to answer. Leave a message."_ Crowley's voicemail played.

"Guy's got one job—find the First Blade, bring it back," Angela grumbled. "How hard is that?"

"It's Crowley." Dean scoffed lightly. "He's not exactly a team player."

"Yeah, but his ass is on the line, too. He goes missing for weeks on end without a peep?" Angela huffed. "Well, not one that makes sense, anyway. Listen to this."

Angela set her phone on the table and played a voicemail on speaker.

 _"Angela. Um…"_ Crowley's voice descended into indecipherable ramblings.

"Wait a second," Sam frowned deeply. "Did he… _Drunk-dial_ you?"

Angela picked up her phone and tried calling Crowley again. "Come on."

~/~\~

Sam, Dean, and Angela stood at a crossroads. Angela held Grace as Sam buried a container of ritual items and Dean finished spray-painting a devil's trap.

"Alright, do it," Dean instructed.

"Daemon, esto subiecto voluntati meae." Sam chanted.

The three hunters looked around as Snooki appeared behind them in the devil's trap.

"Winchesters." She greeted with a sigh.

"I-is that, uh…?" Sam stammered.

"Well, that explains a lot," Dean muttered.

"Okay, uh, look… Snooki—can I call you 'Snooki'?" Angela asked.

"No. It's Nicole now." She replied, playing with the ends of her hair.

"Okay, then. Nicole…" Angela started. "We can do this one of two ways. The easy way—you talk. Or the easier way," she explained as Sam took out Ruby's knife. "You still talk."

"I vote for number two." Dean cut in.

"We just want some basic information on Crowley. That's it." Sam added.

"Google him." Snooki sassed. "Are we done?"

Sam advanced on her with the knife raised threateningly.

"Whoa! Not the face!" she held her hands up. "Are you crazy? Listen, guys, what happens in Hell stays in Hell. I got nothin'."

"But you do have a pretty sweet deal with Crowley in charge." Dean retorted. "If Abaddon wins, you can kiss ass that goodbye—

"All the fancy cars, the books deals." Angela reminded.

"Show biz can be tough." Dean shrugged.

"I'm doing fine. Thanks." Snookie snapped.

"Oh." Dean nodded. "Well, good luck landing your next gig inside a devil's trap."

Snooki sighed heavily. "What do you want to know?"

"Where is Crowley?" Angela demanded.

"Last time I heard, he was somewhere in the western Pacific." Snooki shrugged.

"Makes sense," Sam muttered.

"Really?" Snookie scoffed. "Floating around in the ocean while his kingdom goes up in flames?"

"Meaning?" Dean asked curiously.

"Hell's getting crazy. Even the loyalists want to sign on with Abaddon." Snookie explained. "She's gonna make her move. Are we done? I got a thing."

Sam, Dean, and Angela exchanged silent looks.

"Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus…" Sam started.

"Seriously? An exorcism?" Snooki glared. "We had a deal!"

"See ya, Snooks," Dean smirked.

~/~\~

Sam and Dean were sitting in the library. Dean was playing Grace, who sat on his lap while Sam was reading an article on the computer. Angela walked into the room, making Sam look up.

"Hey." He greeted. "So… Cain said the First Blade was tossed in the deepest ocean, right? That's the Mariana Trench. Maybe Crowley found it, and it's a double-cross."

"That doesn't make sense," Angela argued. "He wants me to power it up and kill Abaddon. He set it up."

"Okay." Sam sighed. "A-assuming he _does_ show up with it, Crowley is only useful to us until we have the blade."

"Yeah. So?" Angela shrugged.

"So… There's nothing stopping us from using it on him, right?" Sam raised his brows.

"Nothing at all," Angela replied with a small shrug when her phone started ringing. "Speak of the devil." She muttered. "Did you find the First Blade?" she answered.

 _"Not exactly."_ Crowley's voice rang through.

"Well, then, what, exactly?" Angela questioned.

 _"I'm in… a jam of sorts,"_ Crowley replied vaguely. _"Thought you might help."_

~/~\~

Crowley unlocked his door and walked into his hotel room, carrying a brown paper bag. He flinched slightly when he saw Sam, Dean, and Angela already inside.

"Hello, boys. Bambi." Crowley greeted.

Dean kicked a foot of a dead body on the floor. "And what do you call this?"

"Refreshments?" Crowley tried.

"What's in the bag, Crowley?" Sam questioned.

"Nothing." He lied.

"Really? Maybe I can, uh…" Sam reached for the bag and tears it open revealing a blood bag. "What, are you knocking over blood banks?"

Sam grabbed Crowley's arm and Dean swung a chair around. They shoved him into the chair and handcuffed him to the arm.

"Come on, guys," Crowley begged.

"Look at you." Angela shook her head as she adjusted Grace in her arms. "You're a _mess._ You know, we were counting on you. You let us down."

"Your slimy followers were counting on you to kill Abaddon, and you let them down," Sam added.

"The man with all the mojo—Captain Evil." Dean scoffed.

"Oh, it's pathetic." Sam shook his head disappointedly.

"What is this? An intervention?" Crowley asked with a scoff.

"You need to focus, Crowley. Get a grip!" Sam snapped.

"What, are you just gonna let Hell go to Hell?" Angela glared.

"You don't know what it's like to be human!" Crowley hissed.

Dean just stared at him blankly.

"It's in your DNA." Crowley continued. "It's my addiction, my cross, my burden!"

"Alright, take it easy." Dean rolled his eyes.

"I see the darkness of it now, the Anthony Weiner of it," Crowley explained. "It makes you needy. I need her. Lola used me. She reported everything I did back to Abaddon."

Sam's eyes widened slightly. "Crowley… Did you tell her about the First Blade?"

"I don't know," Crowley admitted. "Things get a trifle blurry when I'm medicated."

"Great." Sam scoffed, shaking his head. "If he told Lola, she definitely told Abaddon."

"Which means that Abaddon's in the hunt for this thing, too," Angela muttered. "Alright, you know what? This crap ends now. You're cut off. Okay?" she told Crowley. "Kicking it. Cold turkey."

~/~\~

Crowley was tied up in the bunker's dungeon again.

"Back in the fetid pit." He muttered as he looked around the room. "Could at least have added some throw pillows."

Sam sat nearby with his laptop. "Focus. You swept the Marina Trench. And…?"

"And the First Blade was not, as hope, in the Trench." Crowley sighed heavily. "It had, in fact, been scooped up by an unmanned sub, from whom it was stolen by a research assistant, who reportedly sold it to Portuguese smugglers who, in turn, lost it to Moroccan pirates in a poker game."

Sam's brows furrowed in confusion. "What?"

"Poor moose." Crowley tutted. "It's always a little tricky keeping up, isn't it?"

After a few moments of silence, Sam looked up to find Crowley staring at him.

"What are you doing?" Sam narrowed his eyes.

"I'm still a little tainted by humanity," Crowley admitted. "Makes me sentimental."

"Well, stop." Sam retorted.

"You and I both know we shared a mo back in that church. And on some level, we are bonded." Crowley reminded.

"Crowley, the only reason you are alive is that we need your help to deal with Abaddon 'cause she is an even worse pile of crap than you are," Sam replied. "And that is the extent of my concern for you. Got it? Okay. What happened after the pirates?"

~/~\~

Sam, Dean, and Angela sat on a bench outside in a park. Sam had Grace on his lap and looked around to see Crowley digging in a vending machine a few yards off.

"What is Crowley doing?" Sam asked, exasperated.

Dean looked around and sighed. "Stealing candy."

"He is—he's—he's stealing candy." Sam huffed.

"You know, at least when Cas was human, he was an okay guy," Angela commented. "Should've known Crowley would be a douche version."

Dean got up from the bench. "Hey. Hey! Cut it out, man! Image! You're the king of rotten. Act like it."

Crowley pouted childishly and moved to sit down at another bench.

"You really think this guy's gonna show up?" Angela asked with a frown. "I mean, this isn't exactly a place where million-dollar deals go down."

"Look, word is, this André Develin character bought the blade from the pirates, and he's been shopping it around," Sam explained. "That's all I know." He added as a figure approached. "Hey, heads up. Mr. Develin, we spoke on the phone."

"You said you represent a serious collector with an interest in a private transaction," Develin replied, eyeing Dean and Angela.

"Did he?" Dean raised his brows. "Oh. Well, what he meant to say was, is that we are with… The FBI."

"Then good evening," Develin replied, turning around.

"Wait a second." Sam stopped him. "We just want some answers."

"Read Sartre. Jean-Paul Sartre. I'm merely a facilitator between the buyer and the seller—a conduit. So, unless I'm being detained—

Crowley overheard the conversation and suddenly decided to take matters into his own hands. Crowley's red smoke rushed out of his mouth and across the park into Develin's mouth. A moment later it rushed out again and back into Crowley's meat suit.

"So, am I? Being detained?" Develin raised his brows.

"Not at the… moment," Angela replied, clearly flustered. "No, but we've got our eyes on you."

Crowley walked over to the three hunters once Develin was gone. "National Institute of Antiquities."

~/~\~

_Kansas City, Missouri_

The head detective stood by Sam, Dean, and Angela, who were dressed in their FBI apparel. Sam held Grace in his arms.

"I don't have much for you guys." The detective started. "The guards were good men. They'd been here for years—vetted, honest. But…"

"But?" Dean raised a brow.

"Security camera shows a research assistant caught them breaking into vault number one." The detective explained.

"That's her?" Angela nodded to the girl on the ground.

"Gets weirder." The detective sighed heavily.

He showed them the security footage and it showed one security guard shooting the other one. Then, the one that was just shot got up and shot the first guard. Then, one of the guards shot out the camera.

"Like I said." The detective pursed his lips.

"Anything special about the particular vault they opened?" Sam questioned.

"Vault number one is where they keep rare, new acquisitions while they're being examined." The detective explained.

"So, what was stolen?" Dean asked.

"That's the kicker—nothing. The curator, Dr. McElroy, said the vault's been empty for weeks." The detective shrugged before getting called away.

"Okay, so, just connecting the dots here—the blade was likely put in there when it first got here," Angela muttered.

"The guards were obviously demons, so… what?" Sam asked. "When the vault turned out to empty, they killed their guard meat-suits and smoked out?"

"And reported back to who? Abaddon?" Dean's brows furrowed.

"She's closing in." Sam sighed heavily.


	32. Blade Runners Part 2

"So, the First Blade was _never_ on display?" Sam asked curiously.

"No _authenticated_ item by that name was ever on these premises." Dr. McElroy answered.

"'Authenticated.' Dr. McElroy, this blade was _stolen_ and _smuggled_ into the U.S. in violation is treaties with several governments," Dean replied firmly. "We can compel you to speak."

Dr. McElroy's brows shot up. "Compel? And what might that involve?"

Dean was slightly taken aback by her implication. Sam and Angela just looked on.

"Alright, look." Dr. McElroy sighed heavily. "I did acquire the so-called First Blade. And carbon dating did peg it to biblical times, but the authentication proved unreliable."

"So it was in the vault," Angela replied.

"I removed it myself. The guards didn't know." Dr. McElroy admitted.

"And where it now?" Sam questioned.

"Several weeks ago, a confidential offer was made to purchase it. I was afraid we would never authenticate the thing, so—

"Who was the buyer?" Angela interrupted.

"Sorry." Dr. McElroy pursed her lips. "The buyer insisted on absolute secrecy."

"Well… federal statutes trump your little deal," Dean replied. "So… the buyer?"

"And you'll get it out of me one way or another, won't you, agent?" Dr. McElroy flirted.

Dean smirked at Dr. McElroy flirtatiously.

"Hmm. I never did know his real identity." Dr. McElroy continued. "He called himself 'Magnus.' Don't ask me where he lives. I have no idea. But I do have a meeting. So, here is my number, should you need anything else."

She held out her card and Sam went to take it. Dr. McElroy pulled it back and handed it over again, this time only for Dean. Dean took the card and Dr. McElroy sauntered away. Sam scoffed slightly and shook his head.

"What?" Dean's brows furrowed.

Sam chuckled softly. "Did you catch that? 'Magnus? 'Albert Magnus'? The name the Men of Letters used when they want to be incognito?"

"Yeah, but we know that all of the Men of Letters are dead," Dean argued.

"Do we?" Angela quirked a brow.

~/~\~

Sam, Dean, and Angela walked into the bunker's dungeon. Angela carried Grace in her arms. Crowley sat at his table trussed up.

"Turndown service? I'd like a mint on my pillow." Crowley commented.

"What do you know about the Men of Letters massacre of 1958?" Sam questioned.

"We know Abaddon missed our grandfather and Larry Ganem," Dean added. "Was there anybody else?"

"Let me get this straight. You keep me locked up in this closet, ignore my suffering, and then come barging in here and demand my help?" Crowley scoffed.

"More or less, yeah." Angela nodded.

"Did I or did I not keep my end of the bargain the other night?" Crowley raised his brows. "Quite brilliantly, I might add. We are partners! And you _owe_ me!"

"Owe you?" Sam asked incredulously.

"I wouldn't be in this mess if it wasn't for you three." Crowley hissed. "You shoot me up. You make me a junkie. You keep me stashed away for months while my kingdom falls apart?!"

Angela rolled her eyes. "What do you want?"

~/~\~

Crowley sat in the bunker's library drinking a glass of scotch while Sam, Dean, and Angela rifled through boxes of files. Grace was playing on her activity mat, babbling to herself.

"It's not a very good scotch, is it?" Crowley hummed.

"Okay, Crowley, we have gone through the records for the entire membership in 1958," Sam replied. "Every single name matches the men who were killed."

Crowley was only half paying attention as he found a Bust Asian Beauties magazine and started looking through it.

"That would be the active membership, correct?" Crowley raised his brows.

Sam looked up at the ceiling and rolled his eyes.

"Were you three dropped on your heads a great deal?" Crowley scoffed. "Like I told you, rumor has it that a rogue member was tossed out on his arse. Does that make him 'active'? Seriously, how did you ever function without me?" he added. "Well, hello, Miss Ichigatsu."

Angela picked up a file box and her brows furrowed. "Infamati et obliterate."

"Dishonored and forgotten." Crowley translated easily.

~/~\~

A few hours later, Sam, Dean, and Angela were sitting at the table, still pouring over the files. Angela had since put Grace down for a nap.

"Wow," Dean muttered as he handed a paper to Sam. "This guy was something."

"Tough name," Sam replied.

"Yeah, Cuthbert Sinclair. I'd have just gone with 'Magnus.'" Dean noted.

Angela leaned over and skimmed the paper. "Looks like he designed most of the warding that keeps the bunker safe."

"Says here he was named 'Master of Spells,' right after he was initiated." Dean read aloud.

"I guess his work got a little crazy," Sam replied. "The leadership called it 'eccentric' and 'irresponsible.'"

"Okay, so these are projects that he proposed the last two years he was here. Look at this—'rejected.' 'Rejected.' 'Rejected.'" Dean's brows furrowed.

"So difficult—brilliant, ahead of your time, despised for it. Trust me, I know." Crowley cut in.

"Formal separation from Men of Letters—April 1956." Dean read.

"He missed the massacre," Angela replied, her eyes widening slightly.

"I never knew his name, but I heard someone was out," Crowley muttered. "Did my damndest to find him. Thought he might be my way inside this joint."

"So, where'd you look?" Sam questioned.

~/~\~

The Winchesters and Crowley walked through a forest and into a nearby clearing. Sam held Grace in his arms as they walked.

"So, this is where your demons tracked him to?" Angela questioned.

"Exact spot," Crowley confirmed. "My boys never could find him. I'm sensing nothing, so if he's here, he's warded up to the gills."

"Well, he was a genius at it, right?" Sam replied. "Sure as hell ain't gonna be found by a bunch of demons."

"Oh, like he's gonna open his heart to you lot, because you're such prizes?" Crowley sassed.

"Better—we're legacies," Dean replied. "Alright, if he's so bent on hiding, maybe he's watching. Give it a shot."

"Cuthbert Sinclair—uh, Magnus—whatever," Sam spoke to the empty air. "We're Sam, Dean, and Angela Winchester."

"Men of Letters, ourselves," Dean added.

"We know what happened back in the day." Angela continued. "We don't necessarily agree with it. We figured… Maybe you want to tell your side of the story."

There was nothing and the three hunters turned back to look at Crowley, who just pointed behind them. A smoky door started to rise from the ground. Sam, Dean, and Angela exchanged a look and then walked through it. They were immediately in a hallway in a beautifully decorated mansion.

~/~\~

"Which way?" Sam asked as he looked around.

Dean motioned to the right and they walked down the hall. When they rounded the corner, they were attacked by two vampires. Sam held Grace protectively as Dean and Angela managed to fight them off. Then, over an intercom, they heard clapping and a voice.

 _"Bravo!"_ the man exclaimed proudly. _"Well done."_

~/~\~

Sam, Dean, and Angela sat on a couch while a man, Magnus, poured himself a drink. Grace looked around the room from her place on Sam's lap.

"Sorry about all the theatricality." Magnus apologized. "I just wanted to see what you were made of."

"So, what, are we underground?" Dean asked.

"No." Magnus shook his head. "No, my fortress is right where you were standing. But it's invisible."

"Then you must be Cuthbert Sinclair," Sam replied.

"Ugh. I haven't gone by the moniker in, oh… 57 years now." Magnus chuckled as he sat down across from the hunters.

"Well, you're looking good for a guy pushing… 90?" Angela replied.

"Well, thanks, darling." Magnus smiled. "There's a spell for damn near everything. I am impressed, though. You did exactly what you should've done. Though I am gonna miss those two from my zoo."

"Your zoo?" Sam's brows furrowed.

"Oh, you three are in the midst of the greatest collection of supernatural rarities and antiquities on the planet," Magnus explained. "I'm sorry. Did you say you were Men of Letters? I thought that whole thing died out after '58."

"Well, we are—we are legacies," Sam assured. "But actually, uh… We're hunters."

Magnus grinned. "Hunters? _Wow!_ Hunters. With the key to the kingdom! The boys must be spinning in their graves." He laughed. "Damn snobs. Bunch of librarians, if you ask me. Although I was always fond of Henry. I was his mentor, you know? Yeah, till the squares gave me the boot. Yeah. 'Course, he came here to visit me, in secret. Called out to me, same as you did. Of yes. Quite the wild hair, your grandfather was."

"Listen, Magnus," Angela started. "Uh… We got ourselves a little situation. Abaddon, the last Knight of Hell, is looking to up her pay grade and take over the place."

"Things never change, do they? I kept telling the boys over and over again—I would say, 'we could stop all this. We could rid the world of monsters once and for all if we just put our minds to it', but, 'oh, no,' they said. 'No, no, no. It's not our place. We're here to study. We're here to catalog.'" Magnus explained.

"Yeah, yeah, no, we get it. They're, uh… geeks." Dean muttered.

"Mm." Magnus hummed.

"But she can be stopped," Angela stressed. "But we need something that we hear you have—the First Blade."

"Hmm. I see. Interesting." Magnus nodded. "But if you'd really done your homework, you would know that it's absolutely useless, unless, of course, you're possessing the Mark—

Angela pulled up her right sleeve to reveal the mark on her arm. "The Mark of Cain."

Magnus's eyes widened. "Oh, my. How did you come by that?"

"Listen, if Abaddon takes over, the one thing she wants more than anything is to make hell on Earth," Sam explained. "Not even you can escape that."

"And they say all hunters are morons." Magnus chuckled. "It's right there behind you."

Sam, Dean, and Angela turned in their seats to see the First Blade on display. The three hunters immediately stood up.

"Listen, if you're serious about taking action, this—this is taking action," Angela stressed. "You loan us that blade, and we will stop the bitch."

"Hmm. Let me think about it." Magnus turned around and pinched some green powder from a tray on the end table. "Alright, I've thought about it." He blew the powder at Sam, Dean, and Grace. "Abi, ab oculis meis!"

Suddenly, Sam, Dean, and Grace disappeared in a puff of smoke.

~/~\~

Sam and Dean rushed through the woods back to the Impala and Crowley.

"Magnus has Angie." Sam breathed out.

~/~\~

"What did you do with my family?!" Angela yelled at Magnus.

"Don't worry." He assured. "They're fine. But I did what any good collector would do—I separated the ordinary from the extraordinary. I had the First Blade. And now I have the Mark of Cain to complete the set."

"Yeah, well, problem is, it's attached." Angela glared. "So, how about you loan me the blade and I take care of business?"

"Angela, I am offering you the moon here—to be part of the greatest collection of all time, to be young forever," Magnus explained. "Let me teach you my secrets. Hmm? Be my companion. I have to be honest with you," he chuckled. "It has gotten lonely here over the years."

"When you were saying any of that, did it feel at all creepy?" Angela scoffed. "Yeah. I'm just gonna grab the blade and go."

"One little design flaw to the place—no windows, no doors," Magnus replied.

Angela quickly drew her machete. "Well, in that case… I'll just make my own."

"Shen ti rán shao!" Magnus chanted.

Suddenly, Angela's machete burned white-hot and Angela dropped it as it burned her hand.

"Aah!" she yelped in pain.

"Eh? Tricky little spell, that first one, right? Chinese." Magnus smirked.

Angela went for her gun, but Magnus just held it up.

"Ah. Cheap magician's trick on that one—picked your pocket. Nice gun." Magnus commented. "Welcome to the collection, Angela."

~/~\~

Sam dug through the Impala's trunk to find anything to help them get back inside. Dean held Grace, who started whimpering.

"Mama." She cried.

"I know, sweetheart, I know." Dean murmured quietly, trying to comfort her.

Crowley took a step to take a small peek into the trunk. Sam just drew Ruby's knife on him.

"You mind?" Sam raised his brows.

"Who would have thunk it," Crowley started as he backed off. "You, me, and Squirrel, same team, in the trenches. When this is over we can get matching tattoos."

Sam took the file box from the trunk and went to sit in the passenger seat to look through it. "Just to be clear, Crowley, we are not on the same anything. By the way, since the place is warded, your powers are useless, which means you are useless, even more so than usual."

"You two are gonna need another set of hands when you get in there, unless you have other volunteers in mind." Crowley retorted.

"Thanks. Pass." Dean replied gruffly.

"If memory serves me, I'm the one who helped Angela find Cain so that we could find the blade, so that Angela could receive the mark." Crowley reminded. "I'm the one who flushed that lout Gadreel out of your noggin, Sam. So, lately, I've seen more playing time than either of you two."

"Crowley, will you please shut the hell up?" Sam asked, exasperated.

~/~\~

Magnus had Angela tied up to a post with chains around her ankles and upper arms.

"Oh, you're really a piece of work. You know that?" Angela scoffed. "Holed up in here, doing nothing. You bitch about the Men of Letters. You're way worse."

Magnus smirked as he held up the First Blade. "Should we fire it up? What do you say?"

"Go to hell." Angela snarled.

"Oh, come on, Angela. This is the object of your quest." Magnus reminded. "Tell me you aren't curious to see if it works. Give me your hand."

Angela refused to move, so Magnus grabbed her right hand and shoved the First Blade's handle into it.

"Give me your hand." He growled.

The Mark of Cain glowed a bright red and Angela instantly went rigid and her hand clutching the blade started to shake. Angela looked like she was fighting a strong power. She closed her eyes tightly with the effort but then opened them again as she got a faraway look in her eyes. The veins on her arm, next to the mark, started turning red. Magnus looked on with fascination. Suddenly, the shaking in her hand got worse and Angela dropped the blade. She breathed heavily as her hand continued to shake violently.

"That's it," Magnus smirked as he picked up the blade. "Good. Next time, it'll be easier. You'll get used to the feelings, even welcome them."

~/~\~

Outside of Magnus's mansion, it was dark, and Sam was still going through the files by lantern light. Grace was still crying from her place in Dean's arms.

"Mama! Mama!" she wailed loudly.

Dean bounced her in his arms, attempting to calm her down. "Shh, shh."

"Here's something." Sam started. "Apparently, he wanted to make the entire Men of Letters bunker invisible. All physical points of entry were to be eliminated, 'and entrance would only be gained by spell.'" He explained. "Oh. We're gonna need some things. You actually might turn out to be useful, Crowley."

~/~\~

"You'll come to understand, Angela—nothing can stop us," Magnus commented. "Anything, anyone we want to own or destroy is ours."

"Well, how about this, Magnus?" Angela glared. "How about I take a knee? Then what are you gonna do? Huh? You gonna kill me? 'Cause without this thing on my arm, that blade's nothing but a hunk of bone with teeth."

"Hmm. Well, I'm not asking you for your cooperation. I'm just taking it." Magnus grasped Angela's head. "Mentem tuam ac voluntatem adsumo."

Suddenly, Angela's eyes drained of all attitude or emotion.

"Interesting effect, huh?" Magnus smirked proudly. "All thought, all will just… drained out of you. I do this enough, you'll be ready for whatever I have in mind."

~/~\~

Sam was mixing a spell in a bowl as Dean and Crowley looked on. Grace watched her father curiously.

"I did good, eh, Moose?" Crowley asked. "Everything on the list. You're welcome."

"Remember—stay close, do what I say, and shut the hell up." Sam stood up, ignoring Crowley's plea.

"I'm growing on you, aren't I?" Crowley asked.

"Ingressum domi dona mihi." Sam chanted, ignoring Crowley.

A smoky door rose from the ground and Sam, Dean, and Crowley walked through it into Magnus's hallway.

~/~\~

"Love what he's done with the place," Crowley muttered as he looked around.

They heard footsteps coming down the hallway and ducked around a nearby corner. Magnus appeared and went to put a map in a drawer. When he turned his back, Sam leaped at him, putting a knife to his throat.

"Take me to my wife." He demanded.

~/~\~

Sam entered the room where Angela was tied up. Angela saw him leading Magnus in with a knife to his throat.

"Sam! No!" Angela called out in a panic.

Magnus immediately turned into someone else and he grabbed the knife from Sam and went to stab him. Sam recovered quickly and managed to stab him first.

The real Magnus drew Angela's gun on Sam. "Shape-shifter. You see? There are benefits to keeping a zoo."

~/~\~

Magnus had managed to tie Sam up just like Angela on another post. He drew a blade from a display and walked over to Sam.

"You know, I discarded you far too quickly, Sam." Magnus started. "You're way more valuable than I thought you were." He added before turning to Angela. "Why would I knock myself out trying to sap your will? I think Sam here will get you to see things my way."

"Magnus, I swear to God…" Angela glared.

"What? What are you gonna do?" Magnus taunted before he gashed open Sam's right cheek with his blade.

Sam yelled in pain and Angela thrashed in her bonds in a panic.

"Yeah, look, look, Sam, I'm not gonna kill you. Of course not." Magnus said as he made a cut on Sam's neck.

Angela, in her terror, noticed Crowley and Dean peeking in through a doorway.

"But I am gonna make you suffer _unimaginably,_ alright?" Magnus chuckled darkly.

There was a sound of dropping chains and both Sam and Magnus looked over to see that Angela was gone. Before Magnus could recover, Angela dove at him with the First Blade and the Mark of Cain glowing red hot. Magnus was beheaded before he even knew what hit him.

Angela was still holding the blade in her shaking right hand. Her eyes were barely human as she watched Crowley.

"Kid…" Dean frowned deeply.

"Angela?" Sam called out. "Angie. Hey, it's over. He's dead."

"Kid, drop the blade." Dean pleaded, adjusting Grace in his arms.

Angela turned her eyes to the blade and her lips turned in an almost animal-like snarl.

"Drop the blade, Angie." Sam pleaded. "Angie!"

Suddenly, a spark of humanity flashed in Angela's eyes and they flashed to her husband's face.

"Drop the blade," Sam repeated urgently.

Angela let go and dropped the blade as she drew her shaking hand to her chest.

~/~\~

The Winchesters and Crowley started walking back to the Impala. Angela was carrying Grace in her arms.

"Brilliant, I must say." Crowley started. "I'm speaking of myself, of course. Combine a little derring-do on my part, a little dumb muscle from Bambi, a little bleeding from Moose… Happy ending. Roll credits."

Sam, Dean, and Angela stepped out of the woods, and shock was written on their faces.

"No, no!" Dean yelled. "Come on. What the hell?"

The Impala's doors were open and the car looked like it had been tossed in a search of something. Dean ran to the Impala and started to check to make sure everything was okay.

"That's sulfur—demons." Sam sighed.

"Abaddon's," Angela added. "Well, she's just one jump behind us. Guess she couldn't find Magnus's join, either. What about the trunk?"

"Safe. Warding kept them out." Sam replied.

"Demon mitts all over my baby," Dean grumbled angrily.

He shut the back door, revealing that someone had keyed the whole side of the car with writing.

"Oh, come on!" Dean yelled. "Oh, now they're keying cars?!"

"What language is that?" Sam asked as Dean kneeled to get a better look.

"It's Enochian," Crowley answered. "The message isn't for you. It's for me. 'Be afraid. Your Queen.' Abaddon's getting more brazen. She thinks I'm losing my grip."

"Angela," Sam muttered. "Listen, you said Crowley was only useful till we got the blade. We got the blade."

Angela's eyes flickered to Crowley, and that's when he made his move. He flung the Winchesters to the side of the car and held them there. The First Blade fell from Sam's hand to the ground.

"You know, I'm in debt to you three," Crowley commented. "You forced sobriety on me, and now I can see the situation for what it is. Angela, you are quite the killing machine. And it occurs to me that Abaddon is not the only name on your list. My name must be up there, as well."

"It's no good to you without me." Angela reminded.

"Yes, but as long as I have it, it's no good to you," Crowley said as he drew the blade to him and held it in his hand. "Now, this is the way it's going to go—I'll hang on to old donkey teeth here until such time as you locate Abaddon. Then you'll destroy her. You're right, Moose. You can't trust me. But, sadly, I can't trust you, either."

Crowley disappeared and the three hunters were released from the side of the car. They stood there looking around in frustration.


	33. Mother's Little Helper Part 1

_Lebanon, Kansas_

Angela set a large, red book on the table and started to leaf through it when Sam walked into the room.

"Hey." Sam greeted.

"Hey." Angela barely glanced up.

"You catch any shut-eye last night?" Sam asked.

"Nope," Angela replied shortly.

"Well, uh, I caught wind of a case online," Sam replied. "A 1st-grade teacher came home and killed her husband."

"Well, maybe she snapped," Angela muttered.

"Angie, she pounded him, into ground chuck," Sam explained.

"So, what are you thinking?" Angela asked, still reading out of the book.

"Best guess—possession," Sam answered.

"Why don't you and Dean go? I can stay here with Grace." Angela suggested as she turned her back on Sam and walked over to a file folder.

Sam sighed heavily. "Angie, look. Dean and I want to find Abaddon, too, but we've been combing through this stuff for days."

"Well, maybe we missed something." Angela retorted.

"And maybe there are better ways to spend our time than just spin our—

"Maybe we don't have time!" Angela shouted at Sam.

Sam's brows furrowed in concern. "What's up with you?"

Angela pulled a paper out of the folder and skimmed over it silently. "Nothing."

"Yeah?" Sam asked as he walked over to Angela. "See, because ever since you killed Magnus, you've been acting… sort of… _obsessed._ Dean's noticed, too."

Angela finally turned around to face Sam. "Well, maybe because I want an end to all this. Maybe because if we find Abaddon, then Crowley ponies up the First Blade, and we kill her and him both. So, what you call being 'obsessed,' I call doing my job."

"Okay, um… I get it, Angie." Sam pursed his lips. "I'm just checking in."

"I'm fine." She assured.

Sam nodded but looked unconvinced. "Alright. Call us if you find anything, okay?"

Sam left the room. Angela closed her eyes and then opened them and pulled a large bottle of whiskey out of her bag. She opened the bottle and took a long drink.

~/~\~

_Milton, Illinois_

Sam and Dean, dressed in their FBI apparel, were walking through the Milton, IL police station talking to the sheriff.

"It says here in your report that you were the first on the scene?" Dean asked curiously.

"Yes, sir." The sheriff nodded. "I found Mrs. Young sitting next to her husband covered in blood."

"Now, was her husband abusive?" Sam questioned.

"Ric? Oh, no. Not at all." The sheriff replied. "I mean, he could be a stubborn S.O.B., but can't we all?"

"Ah. Anything else, uh, weird that maybe you felt was too odd to include?" Sam pressed.

"Like?" the sheriff quirked a brow.

"Like, did you smell sulfur?" Dean questioned.

"Why would I smell sulfur?" the sheriff scoffed.

"Of course." Dean chuckled. "Uh, thank you. What about Karen's eyes? You notice anything strange?"

"Actually, agent, they, uh, pretty much looked like eyes." The sheriff sassed.

They rounded the corner into the cell block and the sheriff stopped in his tracks.

"Oh, lord." He gasped.

Karen Young had hung herself in her cell but not before she had written and drawn across the walls in her own blood.

~/~\~

The coroner took Karen's body out of the station as the sheriff spoke to Sam and Dean.

"I don't get this. Karen and Ric were two of the most ordinary people you'd ever meet." The sheriff frowned deeply.

"Did she go anywhere on the day of the murder?" Sam asked.

"It was Saturday. Uh… A quick trip to the grocery store." The sheriff shrugged. "That's about it."

~/~\~

Angela was still pouring over letters, files, books, and film scattered across the table in the bunker. Grace was down for a nap in her nursery. Suddenly, Angela's phone rang and she hesitated before picking up.

"How's Mrs. Manson doing?" she answered, putting the phone on speaker.

 _"Dead,"_ Sam answered. _"Hung herself in her cell."_

"Lovely," Angela muttered sarcastically. "The demon smoke out?"

 _"If it was a demon,"_ Dean replied. _"I mean, there was no sulfur, no EMF anywhere. And everyone who saw her just before she gutted her husband said she was totally fine."_

"What are you guys still doing there?" Angela questioned. "This sounds like a case of the crazies to me."

 _"Well, if nothing kicks up by morning, we're out of here. How's research going?"_ Sam replied.

"It's going." Angela sighed. "Alright. Well, uh… Good luck."

Angela hung up and set her phone on the table. She stared at her empty bottle of whiskey with faraway eyes. Her hand shook slightly at the memory of the First Blade. Angela quickly shook herself back to reality, picked up her phone, dialed, and quickly hung up.

~/~\~

"Order up. Here you go." The cook said.

"Thanks, R.J." the waitress smiled politely. She took the two plates and set them in front of Sam and Dean. "Can I get you two boys anything else?"

"No thank you, ma'am," Dean replied with a small smile.

"Uh, this is great. Thank you." Sam nodded.

"Order up." The cook called out as Billy entered.

"Be with you in a minute, Bill." The waitress told the boy.

Billy sat down at the counter and grabbed mashed potatoes from the plate next to him and started stuffing them into his mouth.

"Billy, what are you doing?" the waitress asked in shock. "Your mother raise you in a barn?"

"Don't talk to me like that!" Billy shouted at her.

"Hey," Sam interjected. "Take it easy. She's working hard."

"What's eating you?" the waitress asked gently as she approached Billy.

Billy pushed a glass off the counter onto the floor, causing it to shatter. "You. My mom. Him." He snarled, gesturing to Sam.

"Buddy… Give it a rest." Dean warned firmly.

"Billy?" the waitress attempted to get his attention. "Billy. I'm gonna call your mom, have her come fetch you."

"No, you're not." Billy chuckled darkly.

Billy grabbed a table knife from the counter and stabbed it into the waitress's hand, pinning it to the counter. She screamed and the Winchesters jumped from their seats and tackled Billy, quickly disarming him.

~/~\~

Back at the Milton Sheriff's Department, Sam and Dean were walking through the cell block with the sheriff. With Billy, there were about three to four other people who were writing on the walls with their own blood, humming to themselves or banging their head against the cell door.

"So, tell us what's happening here," Dean muttered.

"I was hoping you'd tell me." The sheriff retorted. "You're the ones that mentioned weird."

"Now, where did they all come from?" Sam questioned.

"Oh, they're all locals." The sheriff replied. "Four of the straightest arrows you'd ever meet. Apparently, they've been acting like this for days."

"Do they share anything in common? Church? School? Uh, book club?" Sam raised his brows.

"Not of my knowledge." The sheriff shook his head. "Oh, I met the kid's girlfriend. She said he was hitching a ride when a van picked him up, and that's the last she heard of him. Whatever that's worth."

The sheriff was called away and the brothers walked back to Billy's cell. Sam shook holy water on him, but nothing happened.

"What are you, Billy?" Dean demanded.

"Clear," Billy answered.

"Of?" Sam's brows furrowed.

"Everything." Billy laughed.

"Why are you doing this?" Dean narrowed his eyes.

"You think there's a 'why'? No." Billy smirked darkly. "It's because I want to. And I can."

~/~\~

Sam and Dean sat in the police station still reading through case files. Sam dialed his phone and while it rang, the sheriff brought over some photos.

"Grocery store surveillance pics." The sheriff said.

"Great. Thank you." Sam replied, waiting for Angela to answer.

~/~\~

After about five rings, Angela finally picked up. She sat in a diner booth, Grace in a highchair next to the table.

"Hey." Angela greeted.

 _"Well, that took forever,"_ Sam replied.

"Uh, well, I'm working." Angela lied. "You guys got anything?"

 _"Not sure."_ Sam sighed heavily. _"But, um, a handful of other people have started acting out, too."_

"Acting out how?" Angela's brows furrowed.

 _"Well, same as the woman—aggressive, violent, impulsive,"_ Sam explained.

Angela scoffed lightly. "Sounds like you're in a Gold's gym."

 _"Yeah. Except it's less steroid-induced, and more… basic instinct."_ Sam muttered. _"It's like the littlest things can set them off. Kind of like me."_

"You?" Angela frowned.

_"Yeah, uh, soulless me. Remember that?"_

Angela snorted. "Yeah, how could I forget? But you weren't out of control like these people."

 _"Yeah, well, maybe everyone has a different reaction to losing their soul,"_ Sam suggested.

"Possible," Angela replied. "So, what? A crossroads demon making deals and taking peoples' souls."

 _"No, I don't think so,"_ Sam muttered. _"I mean, it's not as if these people are winning the lotto."_

"Okay. Uh, well, that was my best swing." Angela sighed.

 _"I hope not, Angie."_ Sam retorted. _"W-we could really use your help down here. Angie?"_

"Yeah, no I—I hear you." She replied. "I just, uh… I'm getting close, Sam. I can't drop the ball on Abaddon right now."

 _"Alright. Be safe."_ Sam replied gently.

Angela hung up and started to sip her drink. Suddenly, Crowley appeared in the booth behind her.

"You're lying to your husband, Bambi. Which kind of makes me your mistress." Crowley smirked.

~/~\~

Sam and Dean were studying the surveillance pictures from the grocery store. Sam noticed that there was a van in the parking lot of the store with the words 'St. Bonaventure' on the side. The two hunters started to overhear an older lady at the police desk talking to an officer.

"Now, listen to me, young man." She demanded. "Those demons are back. I'm telling you, it's happening all over again."

"Demons?" the officer raised his brows skeptically.

"Yes!" she exclaimed. "Demons. Are you deaf?"

"Yes, ma'am. You know what?" the officer sighed. "We're gonna take care of those demons right away. Now, do you need a ride home or something?"

"Don't patronize me, you little turd." She glared as Sam and Dean walked up.

"Hey, you know what?" Sam cut in. "We can take it from here. Um, agents Leiter and Bond."

Dean motioned for the woman to join them at the table. "Please."

~/~\~

A few moments later, Sam handed the woman a cup of warm tea.

"Here you are." He smiled softly.

"Thank you." She replied gratefully.

"Sure." Sam nodded. "Now, why don't you tell us all about these demons, Ms. Wilkinson?"

"Please, call me Julia." She corrected. "It's very simple, agents. They… they came to Milton."

"And?" Dean raised his brows.

Julia paused for a moment and narrowed her eyes. "I say 'demons,' and you two don't bat an eye, when everyone else around here thinks I'm nuts on toast."

"Maybe we're just a bit more open-minded than most," Dean replied with a small shrug.

"Maybe." Julia pursed her lips. "You're two of them, aren't you?"

"Sorry." Sam frowned. "Two of who?"

"Men of Letters," Julia replied, earning shocked expressions from the brothers. "They came here in 1958."

"Men of Letters came here?" Dean asked.

"Oh, yes." She nodded. "It was different then. I was different. They were a lovely couple."


	34. Mother's Little Helper Part 2

Crowley sat across from Angela in the diner booth. Angela held Grace on her lap, bottle-feeding her.

"What do you want, Crowley?" Angela huffed.

"You tell me, Bambi." Crowley retorted. "You rang. Let me guess—you butt-dialed me?"

"Whatever the hell that is." She rolled her eyes. "Either way, we done here?"

"Actually, long as I'm here, last time we chitchatted, we agreed that you were gonna line up Carrot Top." Crowley reminded.

"Yeah, well… I'm on it," Angela muttered.

"Unless Abaddon likes greasy diner food, I doubt she's here." Crowley scoffed lightly.

"Go to hell." Angela narrowed her eyes.

"Oh, if only," Crowley replied. "What's going on with you, huh? You call me, you hang up. You want Abaddon, you don't want Abaddon. You want the blade, you don't want the blade. If I didn't know you any better, I'd say you were stalling." He added. "Just between us girls, how did you feel when you sunk the First Blade into Magnus's head?"

Angela glared at Crowley. "Not half as good as I'm gonna feel when it's yours."

"Love it when you talk dirty," Crowley smirked. "You know what I think? I think you felt powerful… Virile… And afraid."

"Afraid?" Angela scoffed.

"Don't scam a scam artist, darling. You're stalling 'cause you're scared."

~/~\~

"They gave false names, but later I learned that the man's name was Henry," Julia explained.

"Henry Winchester?" Dean questioned.

"Never got a last name." she shook her head.

"Okay, um, and the woman?" Sam asked.

"Josie," Julia answered. "Did you two know them?"

"Yes, uh… Sort of." Sam admitted. "It's complicated."

"I'm an ex-nun, sweetie." Julia chuckled. "Complicated is my middle name."

"What were they here to investigate?" Dean asked curiously.

"Sister Mary Catherine," Julia answered. "She killed two people before jumping from the bell tower. So, I took them to see Mother Superior and sister Agnes, who I later learned were Knights of Hell."

~/~\~

"Knights of Hell? What were they doing there?" Sam questioned.

"I'm not sure of anything I saw that night. We couldn't leave our room after 10:00. Mother Superior forbade it." Julia explained. "I woke up in a dark place, tied to a chair. There were others. They were taken. I was so scared. I prayed and prayed, but God didn't answer my prayers. Henry and Josie did."

~/~\~

"Abaddon," Dean muttered. "Did you ever see exactly what she was doing down there?"

"No," Julia shook her head. "But whatever it was she was doing at St. Bonaventure, it seems to be happening again."

"The convent's name was St. Bonaventure?" Sam raised his brows.

"Yes." She nodded.

"Where is it?" Sam asked urgently."

"On the outskirts of town. It's been closed for years." She explained.

~/~\~

Crowley waved a waitress over, turning his attention to Angela. "I love this. I really do. Couple of drinks, nice music…"

"Shut up, Crowley." Angela rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, you said that already," Crowley replied. "Look, I merely _suggested_ you might be a bit scared."

"Yeah. No, I heard you the first time." Angela replied as Grace started to get restless. "You still don't know what the hell you're talking about."

"I know that Cain gave you his mark for a reason." Crowley retorted. "And I know that rather than embracing it, rather than looking at it as the gift it is, you're sulking like you lost your knuffle bunny. Why are you fighting what you really are?"

"I'm a hunter." Angela glared.

"Who's a chip off the old Mark of Cain." Crowley scoffed.

"No." she replied firmly. "When I kill, I kill for a reason. I'm _nothing_ like Cain."

Crowley looked at Angela like she was crazy. "Nothing like—who are you talking to? I know you're not talking to me."

"Eat me." Angela snapped.

"I saw you. I saw the two of you together." Crowley reminded. "Nothing like Cain? What's in that drink? Delusion? I'm really starting to worry about you, Angela."

"Yeah, well, why don't you worry about yourself?" Angela retorted.

"I will," Crowley assured. "Because like it or not, we're in this together. Your problems, my problems… Our problems."

Crowley got up and started walking towards the back.

"Where are you going now?" Angela demanded.

"I'm going to go water the lily. Care to help?" Crowley sassed, earning an eye roll from Angela. "So serious, Bambi."

Angela put Grace back in the highchair before gripping her right forearm where the mark was. After a few moments, she noticed a guy at a nearby table holding a rosary. The man removed a knife from his belt and followed after Crowley.

~/~\~

Before Jake could get to the bathroom, Angela stopped him, adjusting Grace in her arm.

"Whoa! Whoa! Easy. I know what you're thinking." She told him.

"I'm thinking I'd like to take a leak, so move." Jake retorted.

"I'm Angela Winchester." She introduced. "And I know a hunter when I see one. You don't want to do what you're about to do."

"And why's that?" Jake tilted his head.

"Because you're packing a knife to a demon fight, and you don't stand a chance." She explained.

"Then I'll go down swinging." Jake shrugged.

"Hey, hey, hey." She stopped him. "Listen to me. Any other day, I'd be right there with you. I would, okay? But you got to trust me on this."

"Or you could come with." Jake challenged.

"You ever taken on a demon before?" Angela raised her brows. "Yeah. Well, trust me when I say that when he's done with you, he's gonna go after your family. He's gonna go after your friends. Hell, he'll go after your prom date. So, if you want to do that, if you want to damn anyone and everyone you've ever loved in the slightest chance that you could win, then by all means, pal. You go right ahead."

Jake paused for a moment. "I got a kid sister. She don't deserve that."

"What's your name, hon?" Angela asked gently.

"Jake."

"Good to meet you, Jake." She smiled softly.

"Thanks." Jake nodded.

"I'll see you around, hon."

Jake nodded and left. Angela banged on the bathroom door with her free hand.

"Come on! We got to go!" she snapped.

~/~\~

The Impala pulled up to the ruins of the St. Bonaventure convent. Dean cut off the engine.

~/~\~

Outside of the diner, Angela waited for Crowley with Grace in her arms. Crowley sauntered out the front door.

"Demons don't take leaks," Angela noted. "Next time you want to shoot up, why don't you find a better excuse?"

"Guilty as charged." Crowley shrugged.

"What happened?" Angela asked as Grace played with her hair. "I thought you were cleaning up your act."

"Well, I was going to, but then after very little soul-searching, I decided to _embrace_ my addiction," Crowley explained. "What about you? Takes a junkie to know a junkie. You just want to touch that precious, don't you?"

"I want to kill Abaddon." Angela corrected. "That's what I want. So, whatever happens with the blade, I can't worry about that."

"Sure." Crowley nodded. "Whatever you got to tell yourself so you can sleep better at night."

"Look, what I want, what I fear, none of that means anything," Angela replied. "Because this is the _one_ chance that we have to kill Abaddon. So, I'm all in, no matter what the consequences."

"So, the plan remains the same?" Crowley raised his brows.

"I find her, you bring the blade." Angela nodded.

"It's a date," Crowley smirked.

Angela walked off down the street with her back to Crowley.

~/~\~

Sam and Dean searched the grounds of St. Bonaventure. Sam opened a door into a hallway, and they searched along it. He pointed out a stairwell to Dean and they walked down. There, on a shelf, were five bottles full of brilliant blue light. Before Sam could pick one up, he and Dean were thrown back into a pile of boxes by sister Agnes.

"Souls are a very precious and fragile thing." Sister Agnes started. "Break one of those, and them little buggers fly right back home. We can't have that, now can we?"

"So, after all these years, you're still doing Abaddon's dirty work, huh, Agnes?" Sam gasped in pain.

"Would you believe it's gotten even dirtier?" Sister Agnes smirked devilishly. "Used to be folks believed in the church. Heck, the way they would come strolling in here, looking for God. It was like fish in a barrel, really. But times change." She explained. "You can blame your perverts for that. Now I'm riding shotgun in some smelly van with a handyman and tricking any half-wit I can lay my hands on. But it's worth it."

"Because… Stealing souls is so noble." Sam scoffed.

"Stealing souls is winning!" Sister Agnes yelled.

"Winning what?" Dean demanded.

"Hell's crown, nimrod." Sister Agnes replied obviously. "You think Abaddon is just gonna sit there while those panty waisted demons refuse to pick a side?! And so she made a plan—if you can't convince 'em, make 'em."

"She's turning souls into demons?" Sam frowned.

"Hmm." She hummed. "A demon army, unbeatable, loyal only to her."

"Well, uh… At this rate… Should only take a couple million years." Dean sassed. "Have fun with that."

"You think I'm the only one doing this?" Sister Agnes laughed. "We have factories spread throughout. Worry not, though. Victory is nigh. And we'd like you two to be on our team. Recruitment is easy. I just have to rip your souls out of your bodies."

Sam glared up at sister Agnes. "Regna terrae, cantate deo—

Sister Agnes rushed to Sam and started to choke him with her hands. He gasped to a stop. Dean fished his phone out of his pocket and started to play a recorded exorcism. He threw it from them onto the floor.

Sister Agnes fell to the floor and crawled toward the phone, trying to get there before the exorcism was complete. She managed to get there and smashed the phone to bits. But before she could recover, Sam stabbed her with the demon knife. Sam and Dean moved to gently release all the souls from the glass jars.

~/~\~

Sam, Dean, and Julia walked back to her car in front of the police station.

"You know, um, can I ask you something?" Sam asked.

"If it's for a date, I'm sorry." She apologized. "I never see anyone under 65. Too much drama." She added, earning a chuckle from the boys. "Spit it out."

"After witnessing what you did, why didn't you warn Henry about Abaddon?" Sam asked curiously.

"I became a nun because I wanted to help people," Julia replied softly. "Make a difference. But they never prepare you. They never tell you how to act in the face of true evil. Soon after, I left the order."

"Why?" Dean frowned.

"Because I was ashamed," Julia admitted. "I had betrayed out flock, God, myself. It was and still is my greatest shame."

"Well, what you shared with us saved lives," Sam replied sincerely. "And we couldn't have done that without you. Take care."

"You too." Julia smiled a small smile.

~/~\~

Angela sat at the table in the bunker while Grace played on her activity mat. Sam and Dean walked into the room, causing Grace to look up with wide eyes.

"Dada!" she squealed happily.

"Hey, baby girl." Sam greeted as he picked her up. "Still plugging away?" he asked Angela.

"Like a dog with a bone." She replied. "You?"

Sam grabbed some files from Angela's table with his free hand and went to sit at the other table.

"You were right," Sam admitted.

"About what?" Angela asked as Dean sat across from her.

"Finding Abaddon ASAP. She's mining souls." Sam replied.

"Why?" Angela's brows furrowed in concern.

"To create an army," Dean replied grimly.


	35. Meta Fiction Part 1

_Lebanon, Kansas_

Angela turned on the shower and let the scalding spray wash over her body. She combed her finds through her hair and over her eyes as the water hit her. After about 20 minutes, she turned off the shower and stood in front of the mirror. Angela wiped away the steam and looked into her own eyes for a moment before letting out a heavy sigh. Angela's eyes wandered to her right arm and she rubbed the Mark of Cain with her left hand.

~/~\~

Sam was talking on the phone as he and Dean poured over various files in the library.

"Yeah. Alright. Thanks, Carlos." Sam said. "Listen, if you, uh, if you catch wind of any other demon activity, give me a holler, alright? Appreciate it." He added before hanging up as Angela entered. "Hey."

"Hey, kid." Dean greeted.

"Anything?" Angela asked curiously.

"Yeah." Sam nodded. "A dozen demon-related cases, people without souls acting out, but…"

"But no sign of Abaddon." Angela finished.

"Right," Sam muttered. "Looks like she's vanished."

"Well, we just got to keep digging." Angela shrugged.

"Yeah." Dean agreed, noticing that Angela was rubbing absentmindedly at the Mark of Cain. "You okay, kiddo?"

"Yeah. I'm fine." Angela assured. "Let's get to work."

Sam and Dean shared concerned looks as Angela rummaged through the files.

"Alright," Sam muttered.

~/~\~

Sam had his cell phone on the map table as the three hunters listened to Castiel speak.

"Gadreel?" Sam questioned. "Gadreel is working for Metatron? For how long?"

 _"I don't know."_ Castiel's voice rang through.

"So, Metatron made Gadreel kill Kevin?" Dean asked.

 _"I would explain a lot, and there have been no new prophets,"_ Castiel replied. _"Which means Metatron could have fixed it to his advantage."_

"And Gadreel said that angels are returning to Heaven?" Angela's brows furrowed. "How? I thought that the spell was irreversible."

"That's what Crowley said," Sam muttered. "Look, let's just find Gadreel and… and beat some answers out of him."

 _"Yeah, here's something to start with that. Uh… Hold on, I'm, uh… Sending you a photo of the symbol that drew all the angels in."_ Castiel explained.

Sam opened up his laptop. "Okay. Got it."

 _"It's acting as some kind of angel siren,"_ Castiel noted. _"I think it's a spell. The ingredients used to create it were very odd… Griffin feathers, bones of a fairy. I've never seen it before."_

"Yeah. Me, neither." Sam frowned. "Let me see what I can find."

 _"Honor bar."_ Castiel could be heard muttering. _"What's honorable about a miniature bar in a motel room?"_

"Everything." Angela laughed slightly.

 _"How are you, Angela?"_ Castiel asked gently.

"I'm fine, Cas." She replied in a similar tone. "How about you?"

 _"I miss my wings,"_ Castiel replied wistfully. _"Life on the road… smells."_

"Hmm." Angela chuckled softly.

"Yeah. Listen, I got a match." Sam interjected. "And it's not from the lore… it's from police records. Looks like that symbol you found was spotted at a handful of crime scenes the last couple days, all multiple homicides."

 _"And where were these crime scenes?"_ Castiel asked.

"Uh, Utah… Baker, Hill Valley," Sam answered.

 _"And I'm in Bishop's Falls, Utah,"_ Castiel replied.

"Also looks like most of the crime scenes were in industrial areas," Sam added.

 _"Looks like Gadreel is heading north,"_ Castiel noted.

"What's the next big town?" Dean asked curiously.

 _"There are two. It could be Auburn or Ogden."_ Castiel replied.

"Alright, you take Auburn, we'll take Ogden… meet in the middle," Dean instructed.

They hung up the phone and Dean paused in thought for a moment.

"Didn't we work a case in Ogden?" his brows furrowed slightly.

"Yeah." Sam nodded. "It was a… it was a witch situation, right?"

"Yeah." Dean nodded. "There was that kid in town that helped us, wasn't there?"

"Yes," Angela recalled. "We should call him, see if he's still in business."

"Yeah. What was his name?" Dean muttered.

~/~\~

_Ogden, Utah_

The Impala pulled up in front of Ian's shop later that night. Sam, Dean, and Angela got out of the Impala. Angela unbuckled Grace from her car seat and lifted her into her arms before they walked into the shop.

"Got an open box of feathers," Dean commented as they looked around with flashlights.

Sam and Angela walked over to a closet and Sam opened the door. Ian's dead body was inside, his eyes burned out of his head. Angela immediately covered Grace's eyes.

"Dean." Sam and Angela called.

"We got to find Gadreel before he lights up the bat signal," Dean replied urgently.

~/~\~

Gadreel walked to his car in a dark alley, but he looked up to see Sam walking around a corner, apparently having no idea that Gadreel was there. Sam took out his phone and dialed.

"Cas, it's Sam again. Call us. We need your help." He stressed.

Sam hung up and then jumped as Gadreel appeared right in front of him. Gadreel smiled menacingly. However, before he could make a move, a lighter clicked open and Dean dropped it from above, igniting a ring of holy fire around the angel.

"Hey, douchebag." Angela greeted from her place next to Dean.

"Remember me?" Sam snarled angrily.


	36. Meta Fiction Part 2

In the abandoned factory, Sam, Dean, and Angela had Gadreel tied up to a chair.

"If this is like looking into a fun-house mirror for me, I cannot imagine what it is like for you." Gadreel smirked at Sam.

"How long have you been working for Metatron?" Sam demanded angrily, barely controlling his rage.

"I will not talk, and you cannot make me." Gadreel glared.

"Yeah?" Sam raised his brows.

"I have been you, Sam Winchester. Your insides _reek_ of shame and weakness." The angel taunted.

Sam jumped forward and punched Gadreel square in the face. He went to do it again, but Angela handed Grace to Dean and jumped in front, pressing her hands to Sam's chest.

"Sam, Sam, Sam!" she exclaimed. "Come here."

~/~\~

Sam, Dean, and Angela stood a few steps away from where Gadreel sat.

"He's not gonna crack that fast." Dean sighed.

"I know," Sam replied. "Maybe you guys could hack him like you and Crowley hacked me."

"No, no, no, no." Dean shook his head. "Crowley's the only one who can do that. And I'm in no mood to call that dickbag. We need Cas."

"Any word from him?" Sam asked curiously.

"No." Angela huffed. "I tried him again. He hasn't called, he hasn't texted. I turned on the GPS on his phone. He's still in the same town where we talked to him last."

Sam's brows furrowed in confusion. "What the hell?"

"I don't know." Angela shrugged. "You guys have to go find him."

Sam's frown deepened. "Wait, what?"

"Sam, you're too close to this. I need to do this alone." Angela stressed.

Sam scoffed. "And, what, you're not close to it?"

"We're not at this five minutes, you're already going Liam Neeson on his ass," Angela argued. "I got this. I promise."

Sam and Dean reluctantly nodded and took off with Grace. Angela sauntered back over to Gadreel.

"So, he acts tough, and you show kindness. Is that how this works?" Gadreel tilted his head slightly.

"No," Angela replied, her eyes scarily dark. "See, I don't care whether you talk. You're gonna pay for what you did to him… and Kevin."

~/~\~

Angela drew her angel blade deeply across Gadreel's arm, causing the angel to scream in agony.

"Word around the campfire is, you let the snake in the garden," Angela started as she cleaned the blood off her blade. "Ruined it for all humanity."

"I set them free." Gadreel gasped. "I _loved_ humanity!"

"Well, you sure got a funny way of showing it, asshat." Angela retorted. "Now, look, you tell me about this 'getting back into Heaven' crap and I'll end this quick. Otherwise, you can sit here and rot in those chains forever. Up to you."

"All your talk, all your bluster… you think you are invincible. You and your family against the world, right?" Gadreel raised his brows a bit.

Angela turned her back on the angel. "Damn straight."

"You really think Sam would do anything for you?" Gadreel taunted.

Angela's face crumbled slightly but her walls came back up as she turned back to face Gadreel.

"Oh, I know he would," Angela replied with a glare.

"I have been in your husband's body, Angela." Gadreel reminded. "He would not trade his life for yours."

Angela clenched her jaw tightly. "Well, thanks for the rerun, pal. Sam's already told me all that crap. Hell, he's told me worse."

"He told you that he has always felt that way," Gadreel raised his brows, earning a blank stare from Angela. "That he thinks you are just a clingy little girl who's afraid to be alone. And he is right, isn't he? Right to think you are a coward, a sad, clingy, needy…"

Angela's fist crashed into Gadreel's face and his mouth bled profusely.

"Keep it up!" Angela roared.

"Pathetic bottom-feeder who cannot even take care of herself, who would rather drag everyone through the mud than be alone, who would let everyone around her die!" Gadreel taunted relentlessly.

Angela couldn't take it anymore and swung her angel blade to stab Gadreel in the chest. However, just before she reached him, she noticed the angel's eyes close, waiting for the strike. Angela stopped herself in an instant.

Gadreel's eyes opened in a panic. "No. Do it. Do it! Kill me!"

"Oh, you'd like that, wouldn't you?" Angela asked icily. "That's what that whole speech was about? You're not afraid to die, are you? You're afraid you be left in these chains forever." She glared. "Well, you can sit here and rot, you son of a bitch."

~/~\~

Sam and Dean pulled up to Castiel's hotel and they got out, walking into Castiel's room. Dean adjusted Grace in his arms as they looked around.

~/~\~

Angela walked into the filthy women's restroom in the factory.

~/~\~

Sam noticed Castiel's phone on the table and waved Dean over. Sam picked up Castiel's phone and noticed that there were six missed calls from Angela. The brothers suddenly heard someone behind them, and they drew their guns.

~/~\~

Angela set her cell phone down on the sink and splashed some water on her face. She gripped the sink and looked up into the mirror, staring at the reflection of the Mark of Cain.

~/~\~

"Easy there," Metatron warned the brothers. "I'm here to trade. You have something of mine, and I have something of yours. Bring him here tomorrow, say… 6:00-ish? If not, Castiel dies. No comebacks this time."

"An even trade?" Dean questioned.

"I'm an entity of my word," Metatron replied.

~/~\~

Angela's phone vibrated on the sink as Angela tried to reach her. Angela just grasped her right arm, holding the angel blade, and headed back to Gadreel.

~/~\~

The Impala rolled up to the factor. Sam and Dean entered the room where Gadreel was tied up, but the chair was overturned and there was a lot of blood pooling on the floor.

"Crap," Dean muttered as he adjusted Grace in his arms.

"Angie?" Sam called out. "Angie!"

Sam looked around wildly and noticed his wife on the other side of the room, propped against the wall looking unconscious.

"Dean, I found her," Sam told his brother.

Sam and Dean rushed to Angela as she started to stir.

"Angie," Sam started, noticing that her right hand was all bloody. "Hey! Are… are you okay?"

"Yeah." She nodded. "Yeah, you got to stop asking me that."

"Kid, we've been calling you," Dean replied. "I mean, why the hell didn't you…"

Sam and Dean noticed Gadreel, who was lying by Angela, very bloody and unconscious.

"He won't talk," Angela noted.

"I figured," Sam replied.

Angela looked up at Sam and Dean desperately. "He _wanted_ to die, and I was gonna kill him. I was. But then I stopped 'cause I know we need him to talk."

"Kid, listen," Dean sighed. "Metatron has Cas. He's offering up a trade."

"We can't trust Metatron," Angela argued.

"W-we know that. Obviously." Sam agreed. "But look, this is the first time we're gonna know for sure where Metatron is. Let's take Gadreel to the meet-up, make the exchange, and then trap Metatron."

~/~\~

The Winchesters waited next to the Impala, which was parked in front of Castiel's hotel.

"He's late," Sam muttered as he checked his watch.

"Or he's not gonna show," Angela replied.

"Of course I'm gonna show," Metatron said suddenly. "I was just waiting for you three to finish setting up your little trap for me. Uh… Am I hitting my mark? Well, come on. Let's go. I'm waiting."

Dean threw down a lit lighter and it lit up a burning holy fire circle around Metatron. Metatron faked agony for a few moments before breaking out into laughter.

"Did any of you bring s'mores?" he raised his brows. "Holy fire always gives them a delightful minty aftertaste. Make a wish."

Metatron blew out the holy flames with a breath. The Winchesters jumped forward with their angel blades, but Metatron sent them flying back into the Impala with a flick of his wrist. Sam adjusted Grace in his arm.

"No, thanks!" Metatron yelled.

He walked up to the Impala's trunk and opened it, flicking away the angel warding.

"Bye-bye." He smirked.

Gadreel got out of the trunk as a car pulled up and Castiel stepped out. Castiel quickly walked over to the Winchesters.

"Well, a deal is a deal." Metatron pursed his lips.

"Why are you doing this?" Angela demanded.

"Because I can. Because you and your family and your fine, feathered friend and all those secrets you've got locked away in your bunker can't stop me." Metatron grinned manically. "But I am gonna enjoy watching you try. It's gonna be a hell of a show. I'll see you around, Castiel. Never forget I gave you a chance."

~/~\~

"Somebody want to tell me what the hell's going on here?" Angela raised her brows.

"Metatron is trying to play God," Castiel replied.

"Play God?" Sam scoffed as Grace wiggled in his arms. "Cas, he erased angel warding. He friggin' blew out holy fire. He is God. He's powering up with the angel tablet. How the hell are we supposed to stop this guy?"

"Alright, so what if there is a stairway to Heaven?" Dean asked. "We find it and get a drop on the guy."

"You want to sneak onto the Death Star, take out the emperor?" Sam scoffed.

"Okay I… I'm not sure was a fictional battle station in space has to do with this, but if taking out the emperor means taking out Metatron, I'm on board." Castiel cut in.

The three hunters exchanged extremely confused looks.

"Wait, did you… did you just understand a Death Star reference?" Dean questioned.

"Yeah, I think so." Castiel nodded. "But I don't understand what that has to do with Heaven."

"It's halfway, I guess," Sam muttered.

"You sure you're alright?" Angela asked Castiel.

"Yes," Castiel replied, his brows furrowing slightly. "Are you? There's something _different_ about you."

Angela patted Castiel on the shoulder with her right arm. "I'm fine, Cas."

Castiel grabbed Angela's arm and pushed up her sleeve, revealing the Mark of Cain. Castiel's eyes darkened as he stared at Angela.

"What have you done?" Castiel demanded.

"It's a means to an end." Angela yanked her hand back.

"Dammit, Angela." Castiel shook his head.

"Look, you find Heaven, you drop a dime. Meantime, I got a knight to kill." Angela retorted as she grabbed Grace from Sam and stormed to the Impala.

"Be safe out there, Cas," Dean told the angel.

"You, too," Castiel replied. "Sam… Dean… You keep an eye on her."


	37. Alex Annie Alexis Ann Part 1

_Sioux Falls, South Dakota_

The Impala pulled up to Jody's cruiser and stepped out into the rain. Angela unbuckled Grace from her car seat.

"You three are a sight." Jody smiled at the three hunters.

"Hey, Jody." Angela greeted.

Jody immediately took Grace from Angela's arms. "She's getting so big!"

"I know." Sam chuckled. "She'll be a year old in a few weeks."

"Wow. Time just flies by." Jody murmured. "How have you guys been?"

"Peachy." Angela shrugged.

"Touch and go," Sam said at the same time.

Jody looked between the couple. "I know the feeling."

"So, what you got for us?" Dean questioned.

Jody handed Grace back to Angela before opening up the trunk of her cruiser. The dead vampire's body was inside next to his head. Sam quickly looked around and then bent down and pressed a finger to the gum of the vampire, causing a fang to push out.

"Yeah, uh, that's a vamp, alright," Sam muttered.

"I don't know, guys," Dean smirked. "Looks like Jody might not need our help anymore."

"Oh, they grow up too fast." Sam teased lightly.

"Don't they?" Angela agreed, a small smile on her face.

"Yeah, joke all you want." Jody rolled her eyes. "There's more where this came from."

"More?" Dean raised his brows.

"My men brought in a runaway last night. There's no I.D. on her—nothing on her, actually, except for a bus ticket out of Nebraska." Jody explained. "Total Jane Doe. She won't even give me her name. Girl's basically feral. She's got zero manners, didn't even thank me for saving her." She added. "Anyhow, this thing went to plenty of trouble to get at her. And to hear him tell it, the 'others' will want her at least as bad as he did."

"Sounds like a nest," Angela noted.

"Yeah." Sam and Dean agreed.

"Nest?" Jody's eyes widened. "I'm guessing that's not half as cute and cozy as it sounds."

"Oh, I'm afraid not," Dean replied.

~/~\~

In the interrogation room, Sam was performing a dental I.D. on the girl while Dean and Angela looked on. When he finished, Sam stepped behind her and shook his head at Dean and Angela in answer to their unspoken question.

"Wilson, Fisher, and Joyner?" the girl glared. "You three are FBI, then I'm Taylor Swift. That wasn't a dental I.D. It was a fang check. You're hunters."

"And you're alive because, uh, hunters trained the sheriff." Dean retorted. "I think the first words out of your mouth should be a thank you. So, who are you to this vamp, anyway? Hmm?" he hummed. "What's so special about you? Is there a nest?"

As Dean was asking the questions, Sam noticed some scars on the girl's neck. He went to look closer but she noticed him watching and shrugged her shirt collar higher to cover them. Suddenly, Jody opened the door and popped her head in.

"Sorry to interrupt." She started. "We got a match on her DNA."

~/~\~

The three hunters stood in the hall with Jody.

"Annie Jones. Reported abducted outside of Kenosha in '06." Jody explained. "Raised by an elderly grandparent. No living kin. You think the vamps are the ones who took her?"

Angela adjusted Grace in her arms and frowned. "Eight years is a long time for a human to live with vampires without getting killed or turned."

"You're the experts," Jody shrugged. "But there was something… familiar about the way this vamp talked to her."

"Jody's right." Sam agreed. "And she had scars on her neck, feeding scars. Uh… they're layered, as if they'd been built on for years."

"So, she's a blood slave," Dean concluded. "We've seen it before—vampires keeping people as pets, human feedbags. Sometimes these slaves…"

"Stay loyal to their captors." Angela finished.

"Yeah," Dean muttered.

"Right." Sam sighed.

"So… This girl's not talking 'cause she's got a case of… what?" Jody raised her brows. "Vampiric Stockholm syndrome?"

"She's protecting the nest," Angela noted.

~/~\~

"So, you feel a debt," Sam noted.

"They gave you a home, raised you," Dean added.

"Annie, we get it." Angela continued. "Loyalty is a very powerful thing."

"My name is Alex." She corrected.

"No, it's not," Sam replied. "Your name is Annie Jones."

"Those vampires _stole_ you," Dean explained. "They're monsters, Annie."

"Alex." She corrected again.

"And they didn't love you. They loved your blood. They _fed_ on you." Dean reminded.

"I fed them. My choice." Alex argued. "My brothers—they brought me food when I was hungry. So, when they struck out on a hunt, I fed them. They're my family."

"Okay, you care about them, but, Alex… There's a reason you decided to run away," Angela said gently.

Alex shifted in her seat slightly. "It was time… to move on and get out on my own."

"And how do you think that decision is gonna sit with the rest of the nest?" Dean quirked a brow. "One of them already pursued you. You think when the rest of them find out that you left that they're just gonna shrug and cut their losses?"

"You lived with them for years," Sam added as he adjusted Grace in his arm. "They've tasted your blood. They have your scent down cold. I mean, how far can you run and for how long?"

"You didn't think this out, did you?" Angela asked as a tear ran down Alex's face. "What would happen, who might get hurt—your, uh, 'brother,' for one."

"His name's Cody. And she killed him." Alex motioned to Jody, who was looking on.

"Because of a choice you made." Angela reminded firmly. "These are the consequences."

"You got two options—them or you. And we can help you. We can keep you safe." Sam explained. "But you have to help us."

"Where's the nest?" Dean questioned.

"I can't." Alex shook her head. "After what's happened… mama finds me, she'll kill me."

~/~\~

Later, Sam was doing some research on the computer in the sheriff station while Angela sat next to him with Grace on her lap. Jody stood by lost in thought as Dean walked up with a fresh cup of coffee.

"Mills, you okay?" Dean asked gently.

"No wonder she didn't thank me." Jody murmured. "That creep was her brother. I'm fine. You know, mostly, I'm just—I'm hung up on the name. Alex and Annie—they're so close already. Why'd they change it?"

"Okay, so we know from her ticket that Alex hopped a bus out of O'Neill, Nebraska, right?" Sam spoke up.

"Mm-hmm." Jody hummed.

"Obviously, it'd be better to go in with a firm location, but the town ain't that big." Sam continued. "There are no caves or other natural hiding places."

"Alright, so go in, canvass it cold." Dean nodded.

"Well, Angie and I worked together a shortlist of possible nest locations," Sam replied. "Uh, there's an empty fire station, four or five derelict homes. Nothing we couldn't hit in a day."

"Okay." Dean nodded.

The three hunters got up to leave and Jody followed them.

"Are you okay to babysit by yourself?" Angela asked.

"Oh, well, girl's a flight risk, not exactly friendly, but I think I can handle babysitting detail," Jody replied.

"The station's been made. It might be worth heading upwind for a while." Sam noted. "I mean, vamps are trackers."

"Terrific," Jody muttered sarcastically.

"Yeah," Sam replied.

"Well, I've got an old family cabin outside of town." Jody shrugged. "I can take Grace with us."

"That'll work," Dean replied.

"Okay," Jody pursed her lips as she took Grace from Angela. "Well, shouldn't raise too many eyebrows, me being gone for a day."

"Maybe, but you, uh, sure you don't want backup?" Angela raised her brows.

"You want me to enlist my men in a protection detail against vampires?" Jody asked. "Frank's still in the dark about what hit him last night. The guy still has nightmares about the barn episode of 'Walking Dead.' They're good cops. They're not ready for this."

"Jody, in your late-night reading, did you ever come across anything about dead man's blood?" Sam quirked a brow.

"Mnh-mnh." Jody shook her head.

"It takes vamps down like a horse tranq," Sam explained.

"I would not say no to some of that," Jody replied. "I mean, not that I'll need it. You guys are gonna get the jump on these vamps and be back here before they even realize their kin's missing, right?"

Angela pressed a gentle kiss to Grace's forehead. "See you soon, baby girl."

~/~\~

The Winchesters approached a rundown house and entered cautiously, searching with flashlights. The house was clearly being lived in, as there were beds made on the floor and food in the kitchen.

"This place is a foreclosure, right?" Dean asked curiously.

"Yep." Sam nodded. "It is, just like the rest of them."

"Well, somebody's squatting here," Angela muttered.

"Blackout windows," Sam noted.

Suddenly, there was a sound of a loud machine from behind the house. The three hunters moved to investigate. They noticed a woodchipper out back and a man was shoving dead bodies into the grinding jaws of the machine.

"Hey!" Angela approached from behind. "Hey, you need a hand with that? Oh." She chuckled dryly as she pointed to the dead hand sticking out. "I guess not."

The vampire bared his teeth and made a move towards Angela. However, Sam and Dean jumped in and cracked him over the head with two shovels.

~/~\~

The hunters had tied the vampire, Dale, to a chair in the house.

"You go out with the family, bring home a nice dinner," Dean commented. "How did you get stuck doing the dishes?"

"We all have our roles to play." Dale glared.

"Yours being destroying the evidence, yeah?" Sam quirked a brow. "Nice job. Ralph Hedges. Stacy Kepler. Any reason you targeted them?"

"Yeah. Hunger." Dale snarled.

"And, so, the family's what?" Angela tilted her head. "Out taking a nice after-dinner stroll?"

"Oh, I'm sure they'll be back real soon." Dale drawled.

"What I asked was…" Angela grabbed Dale's hair and jerked his head, so their faces were extremely close. "Where are they?"

~/~\~

Angela threw a punch right into Dale's stomach. "You don't want to talk. No skin off my back. 'Cause you see, a blood-sucking, body-chipping vamp—that's bad enough, but vamps… that kidnap kids…" she glared darkly. "Well, I'm going to _enjoy_ putting you down."

"Of course. Oh, I knew this was about Alexis." Dale scoffed. "I warned mama that girl would screw everything up for us one day."

Sam's brows furrowed. "Mama? As in one vamp turned you all?"

"Well, all of us but little sis," Dale replied. "She was, uh, 'too good to turn.' Mama couldn't bring herself to, no matter what we said, no matter how bad Alexis got."

"Bad?" Dean questioned.

"Let me guess," Dale smirked. "You never had a teenage sister. Dragging her heels, whining, near-constant, about everything, but more and more about the blood, like she's somehow above it, like she's better than us 'cause she don't feed on people."

"She is better than you, dumbass," Angela replied darkly.

"Her moping? That teenage crisis-of-conscience crap? It's annoying as hell, but it's just an act." Dale explained. "When the chips are down, she'll always choose us over humans. I mean, how do you think we stayed off your radar all these years? Pretty, young, lost-looking think like her?" he smirked. "Irresistible, especially to the kind of man few people would miss. I mean, sure, we hunt sometimes for sport, but it's a lot easier and a lot safer to get delivery."

"She's your lure." Dean frowned deeply.

"Best a vamp could ask for." Dale chuckled. "And you better believe you don't get that good at it unless you enjoy it. In her own sweet way… Girl's as bloodthirsty as any vampire."

"Jody and Gracie." Sam's face fell as he realized.

~/~\~

Sam, Dean, and Angela were all on their phones.

"You got it. Thank you." Sam said, ending his call.

"She's not answering," Dean grumbled.

"She's not replying to my texts," Angela added.

"I just ran the victims' names through the local P.D. They both worked at the O'Neill bus station." Sam explained.

"So, they killed them for Alex's location," Dean replied as his phone started ringing. "Jody?"

 _"Dean, what's up?"_ her voice rang through.

"Listen to me," he said firmly. "The vamps know that Alex went to Sioux Falls, okay? They're probably already there. We're on our way there next. But there's something else. There's something about Alex."

 _"It can wait. They're here."_ Jody replied.

"What?" Dean's face fell.

 _"At the cabin. Now."_ Jody replied frantically.

"We're on our way," Dean assured.

 _"Hurry."_ She stressed before hanging up.

"She hung up." Dean sighed heavily.

"Alright." Sam nodded. "We're moving."

"Yeah. I'll meet you guys outside." Angela replied.

Angela walked back into the room with Dale and without even missing a beat, she beheaded him in one downward stroke of the machete.


	38. Alex Annie Alexis Ann Part 2

The Impala pulled up to the cabin in the daylight and the Winchesters jumped out greatly concerned about the groggy Jody who was laying on the ground.

"Jody?" Dean and Angela called out.

"Hey, you okay?" Sam asked concernedly.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa." Dean helped Jody up.

"Where's Alex?" she asked, brows furrowed.

"You tell us," Sam replied. "Where's Gracie?"

"They came and I tried to stop them," Jody explained. "I found an old playpen and kept Gracie in my room."

Sam nodded and disappeared into the cabin, quickly grabbing Grace. He walked back out with her in his arms, making sure that she was okay.

"And you got knocked out. Well, happens to the best of us." Dean replied.

"Just lucky you're alive," Angela added.

"You think they went back to the nest?" Dean asked Angela.

"Of course they did." She replied. "Why wouldn't they? Question is—what are they gonna do when they find their brother dead?"

"So we go back now." Dean nodded.

"Okay," Jody muttered. "I'm coming."

"Uh, Jody? Hey, hey. Whoa." Dean stopped her. "Hold on. You're hurt."

"I'm coming," Jody repeated firmly.

"Jody, we can handle the nest on our own," Sam assured.

"I don't give a fig about the nest!" Jody snapped. "That girl was under my protection."

"Okay, that _'girl'_ can't be trusted. She's a lure." Dean explained. "She's a-a honey trap. She's been _feeding_ people to those vamps!"

"I don't care." Jody retorted. "Whatever she did, she did because they made her."

"Oh, and that's a reason?" Angela quirked a brow.

"She's a kid!" Jody argued.

"Yeah, a kid who's been playing vampire murder since before she was in braces." Dean reminded.

"Jody, they're right." Sam sighed. "A-at best her loyalties are… Screwed."

"And how do we know she wants to be saved?" Angela questioned. "For the past eight years, she has been baiting the hook for an entire nest. She's got more blood on her hands than most monsters we kill."

Jody narrowed her eyes slightly. "Are you saying she's on your list?"

"No, we're not saying that," Sam replied.

"Well, not yet," Angela muttered. "Look, it sucks, okay? It does. But with hunting monsters comes harsh truths. This is a clean-up mission. It's not a rescue."

"What is this really about?" Dean asked. "You barely know the girl."

"I'm coming," Jody said with finality. "And if any of you lays so much as a hand on Alex… You'll have to go through me."

"Alright, well, someone needs to stay here with Gracie," Dean muttered as he took Grace from Sam. "There's no way we can bring her into that nest. You guys be safe, okay?"

"Thanks, Dean." Angela smiled gently.

~/~\~

Angela, Sam, and Jody were preparing to raid the run-down house.

"Well, their truck's in the driveway," Jody muttered.

"So, we're walking right into it." Sam sighed.

"Well, we've faced worse odds." Angela shrugged.

"Yeah." Sam agreed.

"Jody," Angela started. "This is a raid, so tread lightly, stay close. Priority is clearing the nest. Alex comes second. You got it?"

"Got it," Jody replied, clearly annoyed.

~/~\~

Angela, Sam, and Jody quietly entered the house and cleared the first floor. Sam and Angela went upstairs and motioned for Jody to stay where she was. They started to investigate the second floor, but Jody heard groaning from downstairs and went to check it out. Meanwhile, upstairs, Sam walked back to Angela and as Angela turned around, she saw Connor had a gun on Sam. Angela grasped her machete tightly.

Connor pushed the rifle into Sam's back. "Drop it."

Angela dropped the blade to the floor and then got hit with a 2x4 in the head by another vampire. Angela collapsed to the floor in a heap.

~/~\~

Angela was lying unconscious on the floor as Sam was tied to a chair. Connor was holding a gun on him as he struggled.

"No, no, no. No." Connor shook his head. "Hell of a sight to come home to… Brother lying dead on the floor."

Connor rammed the butt of the gun into Sam's stomach, causing him to groan in agony.

"No idea it was a Winchester that had done it." Connor snarled. "So… Which one of you was it? Which one of you took off my brother's head?! Was it you? Was it her?" he demanded. "This place has been a good home to us. But since you two had to come around and ruin it, we're gonna have to hit the road and find a new one. And when we hit the road… we like to pack a lunch."

Connor cut some surgical tubing and picked up a bucket before moving toward Sam. Sam started to draw back when he realized what Connor was about to do.

~/~\~

Sam's blood was draining from his arm into a second-pint jar, which stood next to an already full one.

"Tapped this keg," Connor commented. "Get her ready." He nodded to Angela. "Time to finish this."

The other vampire sent a vicious kick into Angela's back right above her kidney. Angela still appeared to remain unconscious. The vampire pulled Angela's head, but as soon as his hand grasped her hair, Angela flung out her left hand which held a syringe of dead man's blood. Angela buried the needle in the vampire's heart and pushed down on the plunger. Angela grabbed the machete from the floor and faced Connor.

~/~\~

Angela was facing off with Connor, but he drove Angela to the wall with the machete to her throat. Suddenly, Angela's face changed to pure anger and strength. She pushed back and swung Connor around, pressing him against the wall. Angela pressed the machete to Connor's throat.

"Look at me." Angela snarled. "Look at me, bitch!"

Connor glared back and Angela completely gave into the snarl as she severed Connor's neck with the blunt end of the machete. Before she turned around to face Sam, Angela attempted to get her feral state under control. Angela rushed to Sam to remove the tubing from his arm.

"Angie." Sam breathed out.

"Yeah, I know. You wouldn't have done the same for me." She quipped.

"No." Sam shook his head. "Jody."

~/~\~

Angela came down the stairs with Sam leaning heavily on her shoulder. However, as they reached the bottom, Jody decapitated 'mama.'

~/~\~

Outside of the cabin, Sam and Angela stood next to the Impala.

"Nice work back there. 'Look at me, bitch'?" Sam raised his brows.

"Well, hey, you got another snappy one-liner, I'm all ears." Angela shrugged nonchalantly.

Sam sighed heavily. "What I'm saying is—it looked to me like you were _enjoying_ it. Maybe too much."

"And?" Angela scoffed. "Well, sorry for not putting on a hair shirt. Killing things that need killing is kind of our job. Last I checked, taking pleasure in that is not a crime."

"Right, but…" Sam trailed off as Dean and Jody approached.

"There's my girl." Angela took Grace from Dean. "How's things back at the station?"

"Well, they beat Frank up pretty bad, but at least they left him alive," Jody replied. "He kept apologizing for spilling the beans about the cabin, but I told him that one's on me."

"Well, speaking of apologies, um… We owe you a big one." Sam replied.

"We were wrong about the girl," Angela added.

"No. You were right—about me." Jody admitted. "My judgment was clouded. You know, working this case, it brought… feelings back. Feelings I've been trying to bury for years, you know, buried it under work, religion… even dating. We know how that worked out." She added. "But, you know, it was still there, you know, underneath. The grief. Don't know what that means for me, just that I've been—I've been fooling myself to think that I could ignore it. Anyway, thank you—for coming out, for curing Alex."

"You don't need to thank us," Sam replied sincerely. "I mean, you're the one who killed her sire, got her blood."

"Sure it'll work?" Jody asked skeptically.

"Well, speaking from experience, it'll be a rough couple of days, but… She should pull through." Dean replied. "You sure you don't want us to stay?"

"I'm good," Jody assured.

"After it's done, you know what to do with her?" Angela asked curiously.

~/~\~

_Lebanon, Kansas_

Sam, Dean, and Angela walked into the bunker. Angela adjusted Grace in her arms.

"I'm gonna put Gracie to bed and then take a shower," Angela announced.

"Okay." Sam nodded as Angela walked out of the room.

Sam waited for a moment, making sure that she was gone before he turned to Dean.

"I'm worried about her," Sam said in a hushed whisper.

Dean's brows furrowed in concern. "What happened?"

"It's just…" Sam sighed heavily. "You didn't see her at the house, Dean. When she killed that vamp, she looked… there was something _off_ about her. Like she _genuinely_ enjoyed killing him."

Dean pursed his lips tightly. He had been worried about Angela too, ever since she killed Magnus. "Well, we'll just have to keep an eye on her, Sammy."


	39. King of the Damned Part 1

"This is the address?" Dean asked as they pulled up to the bland-looking building.

"Yeah." Sam shrugged.

The three hunters got out of the Impala and Angela took Grace out of her car seat. Dean was about to knock on the door when suddenly, it opened up.

"If you'll follow me, the Commander will see you now," Benjamin instructed.

"The Commander?" Dean muttered.

~/~\~

Sam, Dean, and Angela were led into Castiel's command center, a large room equipped with state-of-the-art spy and tracking devices, computers, etc.

"Sir," Benjamin said to Castiel.

Castiel smiled lightly at the Winchesters before giving each of them a hug. Grace looked up at her uncle with wide eyes and gave a small wave.

"Um… dismissed," Castiel told Benjamin before turning to the hunters. "He can be a little stuffy."

"So… Commander?" Angela raised her brows.

"Yeah, not my idea." Castiel shifted uncomfortably. "They had no leader, and they _insisted_ on following me."

"Yeah. No, we get it. You're a rock star." Dean replied.

"Bartholomew is dead. Malachi was murdered by Gadreel, and with Metatron as powerful as he is now, I _needed_ to do something." Castiel explained.

"So, this war between angels is really gonna happen, huh?" Sam asked.

"Not if I can find a diplomatic option for getting rid of Metatron," Castiel answered.

"Good luck with that." Angela scoffed lightly.

"Angela, this angel-on-angel violence—it _has_ to end. Someone has to say, 'enough.'" Castiel stressed.

"And that someone is you?" Sam raised his brows.

"That brings me to why you're here. We have a prisoner." Castiel sighed. "It's an angel from Metatron's inner circle. I need to know what they're planning, but so far, he's revealed nothing."

"So, you're done with the rough stuff, and you want us to be your goons?" Angela quirked a brow.

"Well, you've had success at these situations before." Castiel reminded. "If you don't want to do it, I understand."

Angela's eyes darkened noticeably. "Who says I don't want to do it?"

~/~\~

"You're wasting your time," Ezra stated. "I have nothing to say."

"We disagree." Angela glared.

"There's no use in torturing me," Ezra replied smugly. "I am a trained commando. It won't work."

"Wow. Well, you just asked me to dance." Angela lunged at him, gripping her angel blade.

"Hey, hey, hey!" Dean grabbed Angela. "He won't be telling us _anything_ dead, kiddo."

"Besides, you know, I'm—I'm really starting to realize that he probably doesn't know anything," Sam added as he adjusted Grace in his arms. "He was probably just pretending at the bar. Most likely, he's a nobody. I mean, do the math. Ezra here is one of Metatron's elite posse? Really?" he chuckled. "One of Metatron's most trusted is, uh—is hanging out at bars, blabbing about the boss. Does that make any sense?"

"Well, only if Metatron is _purposely_ surrounding himself with losers," Angela replied, catching on.

"Exactly!" Sam exclaimed. "Right?"

"Yeah." Angela nodded.

"What's this guy even doing here?" Dean snickered.

"He's a wannabe," Angela answered. "I mean, if he _was_ a key player, he would be up in Heaven with Metatron where all the action is."

"Exactly." Sam nodded.

"What if I'm a decoy? Or in deep cover?" Ezra cut in.

"I-it's pathetic." Sam chuckled.

"Mm, probably hasn't even been to Heaven, not since the fall," Dean added.

"Of course not!" Sam exclaimed.

"Yes, I have," Ezra responded incredulously.

"Buddy, the gates are sealed. No one can get in." Sam reminded.

"Who said anything about gates?" Ezra scoffed. "You don't need gates when you have a private portal."

"Right." Sam nodded. "If there was a doorway on Earth, the angels would've sensed it."

"Yeah, you can't just hide something like that." Angela rolled her eyes.

"No." Dean agreed.

"You can if it moves around from place to place, if it's wherever the boss wants it to be," Ezra smirked.

~/~\~

"I see. I got it." Sam nodded. "So, you heard a _rumor_ about Metatron's 'secret portal,' and you decided to run with it."

"It's not a rumor." Ezra scowled. "He showed me."

"I get it. He's a fan." Dean smirked.

"A fan. Yeah." Angela agreed.

"You're a fan." Dean chuckled. "Just 'cause you're hot for Metatron… or Bieber or Beckham… Just 'cause you know everything about them doesn't mean that you actually know them."

"Or that they even know you exist," Sam added.

"Ooh, that's cold, Sammy." Angela giggled.

"I'm just sayin', Angie." Sam defended.

"I was interviewed personally by Metatron for a key post." Ezra boasted.

"Yeah?" Sam's brows shot up. "Oh, wow. Well, then—then maybe you can tell me why you weren't at your key post and you were hanging down here instead."

Ezra's face fell and he looked down at the floor.

"Mm." Angela hummed. "Now, that blows. He got passed over."

"Yeah." Sam nodded.

"I-I was a finalist." Ezra stammered.

"Oh, man." Sam laughed. "To get so close and then get kicked downstairs. It sucks to be you."

"Hardly anybody was chosen!" Ezra exclaimed. "And ground force is still a very important assignment. It was an honor to have even been considered for the squad."

"What 'squad'? There is no squad." Dean replied.

"Yeah, says you." Ezra rolled his eyes dramatically. "It's a highly guarded secret."

"Oh," Dean responded. "And what would you be doing, exactly?" he asked, not getting a response. "No?"

"Wait a second." Angela snickered. "Just, please, uh… Clarify this for me. You desperately wanted this job, but you didn't know what it was."

"Well, until you were chosen, the exact nature of the mission was kept secret," Ezra admitted.

"Wow. Wow." Dean laughed heartily.

"And… Hardly anyone was chosen." Ezra mumbled.

~/~\~

Dean, Sam, and Angela walked out of the interrogation room.

"Dim bulb," Dean commented. "No wonder he got bumped."

"Yeah. 'Ground forces'?" Sam scoffed. "Elite secret squad? What's Metatron gearing up for?"

"I don't know—why don't we shove somebody through the back door of Heaven and find out," Angela recommended. "Oh, wait. No. It's _portable_ and can't be found."


	40. King of the Damned Part 2

Sam, Dean, and Angela were in Castiel's office.

"It's unbelievable," Sam muttered. "I mean, he was _fine_ when we left him."

"I barely touched the guy," Angela added.

"Still shackled, no weapon. It wasn't suicide." Dean grunted.

"No." Castiel pursed his lips. "This was an angel kill."

"Okay. Well, I'm gonna say it." Angela shrugged. "Maybe your operation's been hacked. You know, Metatron's got somebody on the inside."

"I was sure everyone here was loyal." Castiel shook his head disappointedly. "Finally united by a common cause."

"Well, that's the problem. See, you don't think anybody's lying. I think everybody's lying." Dean replied. "It's a gift. Let's do some nosin' around."

Dean and Angela walked out of the room. Sam went to follow when Castiel stopped him.

"Sam," he started. "You have a moment?"

"Yeah. What?" Sam asked as Grace wiggled in his arms.

"I wanted to ask you about Gadreel, the time he possessed you," Castiel replied.

Sam cleared his throat uncomfortably. "It's not really something I like to—

"Sam, please." Castiel pleaded.

"He didn't possess me completely—more like we, uh… shared housing," Sam explained. "I was still me."

"Did you ever sense a presence?" Castiel questioned.

"I don't really know what I felt," Sam admitted. "I mean, maybe that I was completely alone."

"Did you ever feel threatened?"

"No." Sam shook his head. "More that he… wasn't at rest, l-like he had unfinished business. Now that we know more about him, I-I'd say he felt misunderstood."

"But not—not a danger, not hostile." Castiel's brows furrowed.

"No. I was wrong, obviously." Sam scoffed. "He killed Kevin."

~/~\~

Angela was seated at one of the tables in the command center, flashing back to Magnus's house.

~/~\~

_"Give me your hand. That's it." Magnus encouraged._

_Angela took the First Blade, and the Mark of Cain glowed._

_"Drop the blade, Angie," Sam begged._

~/~\~

"Angie!" Sam exclaimed. "Angie. Angie. What's wrong with you? You hear your phone?"

Angela shook herself from the memory and picked up her phone. "It's about time. Where the hell have you been?"

 _"I told you I'd be in touch when I'd found Abaddon,"_ Crowley replied. _"Well… I'm in touch."_

"Where are you?" Angela demanded.

 _"First things first. I'll give you the location of the First Blade."_ Crowley replied. _"You three fetch it, I'll keep her in my sights, then we'll remove her from the payroll for good."_

~/~\~

"Oh! Come on, Crowley!" Sam groaned as he opened up the coffin. "You really, uh, uh, have to hide the blade in a corpse? Not—not with a corpse but in a corpse?"

"I got to say, it's not the first place I'd look." Angela shrugged. "Alright, here we go."

Suddenly, the three hunters heard growling in the distance.

"Do you guys hear that?" Sam frowned.

"I'm guessing Hellhound," Dean replied as he clutched Grace protectively. "Go! Go!"

The three hunters ran quickly and locked themselves behind the gate. The Hellhound growled as it tried to break the gate down. Angela immediately pulled out her phone and dialed.

 _"Hello?"_ Crowley's voice rang through.

"Dammit, Crowley, the grave is guarded!" Angela yelled.

 _"That's absurd."_ Crowley scoffed.

"A Hellhound!" she snapped.

 _"No, no, no, she was collected,"_ Crowley argued.

"The hell she was!" Angela growled.

"Guys!" Sam yelled.

 _"Time was, no one would dare disobey the king,"_ Crowley grumbled.

"Guys!" Sam stressed.

"I'm gonna put you on speaker!" Angela told Crowley.

 _"Juliet?"_ Crowley called out. _"It's papa. Stand down."_

Suddenly, the growling stopped, and the Hellhound did as she was told.

 _"You're welcome,"_ Crowley added.

~/~\~

"Alright. Goin' in." Angela muttered as she rolled up her sleeve.

"Hey, you know what?" Sam stopped her. "Maybe, uh… Maybe I should do this."

"Sam, it's fine," Angela assured. "I—I-I can safely grab it without… you know…"

Sam ignored her and reached into the corpse to retrieve the First Blade. Sam visibly cringed in disgust.

"Well, let's go kill a knight of hell, huh?" Angela stood up.

"Yeah." Sam and Dean replied simultaneously.

~/~\~

Angela waited for Crowley to answer her phone call as Dean drove.

 _"Bambi."_ Crowley greeted. _"I hope you were nice to your father."_

"What?" Angela's brows furrowed. "Shut up. Look, we got the blade."

 _"You do? Well, you need to get it here at once."_ Crowley replied. _"Cleveland, Humboldt Hotel. Penthouse, of course. When you get here, I'll take you to Abaddon. I'll draw her out, and then you can skewer the ignorant hag."_

"Alright, we're on our way," Angela assured.

 _"Oh, and, Angela, you need to get a move on. It's a good day's drive from Poughkeepsie."_ Crowley added.

Angela frowned in confusion. "What are you talking about? We're not even near there."

 _"Yeah, like I said, you need to leave Poughkeepsie right away,"_ Crowley stressed.

Angela's frown intensified and she hung up.

"So, we good, kiddo?" Dean asked curiously.

"Yeah." Angela nodded.

~/~\~

_Cleveland, Ohio_

The Impala came to a stop near the Humboldt Hotel. Sam, Dean, and Angela got out of the car. Sam had the blade and Dean lifted Grace into his arms.

"Alright. Let's do this." Sam sighed.

"Wait, wait, wait. Hold on a sec." Angela stopped him and Dean. "We should give this place a once-over before we go up there. Crowley said he thought he saw some demons headed down the basement. He'd have checked it out himself, but if word got back to Abaddon that he'd been seen…"

"When did he say all this?" Dean frowned.

"On the phone." Angela lied. "Look, it might mean that she knows he's here, okay? So, why don't you two check out the basement? I'll, uh, take a look on the main floor."

~/~\~

Angela walked into the suite gripping the First Blade, a sinister look in her eyes.

"Hello, Angela." Crowley greeted. "Love the crazy bloodlust in your eyes. Let's not waste time. I'll take you to Abaddon. It's not far."

"A girl and her blade." Abaddon sauntered into the room. "And still no match for the new queen."

~/~\~

Sam and Dean were in the basement of the hotel. They looked around, noticing that it was empty.

~/~\~

"So, first… You'll die… Painfully." Abaddon grinned evilly. "And then Crowley will watch his son die—ditto—and then the king himself. And blade destroyed. That's quite a to-do list."

Abaddon pinned Angela to the wall with a single gesture and she struggled to break free. When she did, she fought to get to Abaddon, almost as if she were walking through a heavy wind. Abaddon tried to keep Angela away, eventually managing to pin her to the wall again. Angela dropped the blade, but with extreme concentration, called it to her with telekinesis, causing her to break free fully just as Sam and Dean burst into the room.

With the blade in hand, Angela stormed over to Abaddon and stabbed her in the stomach, lifting her off the ground with unnatural strength. Abaddon died in a massive burst of red light with a roaring scream. Influenced by the mark, Angela stabbed Abaddon several times more.

"Angie," Sam called out to her. "Angie! Angie! Stop! You can stop."

Angela dropped the blade and stared at it and her bloodied hands in shock as Sam, Dean, and Crowley did the same. Dean covered Grace's eyes, making sure she couldn't see the sight.

~/~\~

Crowley groaned as he removed the bullet from his shoulder with a large knife. "You could at least—aah!—help me with this."

"We didn't kill you, Crowley, even though it would have been very easy." Dean retorted. "Isn't that enough?"

"You owe me," Crowley argued. "Do I get no credit for warning you this was a trap?"

Both Sam and Dean looked perplexed.

"Poughkeepsie ring a bell?" Crowley raised a brow, noticing that Sam and Dean turned to Angela. "I sense drama."

"I just still can't get over the fact that Crowley has a son." Angela changed the subject. "How's he doing by the way?"

"Ow!" Crowley groaned. "How do you think?"

"You get that he's got to go back, right?" Dean quirked a brow. "To his own time?"

"If the lad goes back, his destiny is to board a ship bound for America. That ship went down in a storm." Crowley explained. "All hands were lost. He had one chance in this world to change his life. You want that to all end in tragedy?"

"Well, I don't know what to tell you." Dean shrugged. "Them's the rules. He goes back."

"The lore all says the same thing—you change any one thing in the past, the ripple effect impacts everything that follows," Sam added.

"Please." Crowley scoffed. "No one bends the rules like you three bend the rules. He's one misfit kid. He impacts no one."

"You don't bend that rule, okay? You don't." Sam shrugged. "We'll take him back to the bunker, figure out the spell. That's the way it's got to be."

"Can I at least say goodbye?" Crowley asked. "I'll cheer the day when the last trace of humanity leaves me. Feelings."

Crowley entered the bedroom where Gavin was waiting. After a moment, Crowley magically closed the doors. Sam, Dean, and Angela opened the door to find the room empty.

"Dammit, Crowley!" Angela yelled to the air.

~/~\~

The Impala sped down the dark road, an uncomfortable silence between the hunters.

"I didn't tell you guys about the warning because I knew exactly what you would do." Angela broke the silence. "You guys would make sure that you were right alongside me going in that room."

"Of course we would, kid," Dean replied obviously.

"You mean like we always do?" Sam snapped at her. "Because we're actually a _team_ in this and we watch each other's backs?"

"You don't understand," Angela argued.

"Try us," Sam responded.

Angela pursed her lips tightly. "First time I touched that blade… I knew. I _knew_ that I wouldn't be stopped. I knew I would take down Abaddon and anything else if I had to. And it wasn't a hero thing." She explained. "You know, it wasn't… It was just calm. I knew. And I had to go it alone, Sammy."

"Oh. Of course." Sam shook his head. "So, it was just another time where you had to protect me."

"You, Dean, and Gracie could have been nabbed by Abaddon, and she could've bargained her way out." Angela defended. "We couldn't afford to screw this up."

"Look… we're glad it worked out, okay? We are." Sam assured. "And we're glad the blade gives you strength or calm or whatever, but, Angie, I got to say… Dean and I…"

"We're starting to think the blade is doing something else, too." Dean finished.

"Yeah? Like what?" Angela raised her brows.

"I don't know. Like, something _to_ you." Sam replied. "Look… I'm thinking until we know for sure that we're gonna kill off Crowley, why don't we store the blade somewhere distant? Lock it up somewhere safe? Okay?"

Angela pursed her lips tightly and shook her head. "No."


	41. Stairway to Heaven Part 1

_Lebanon, Kansas_

Sam was dead asleep on the bed he shared with Angela. Suddenly, he jerked awake when he heard loud rock music and pulled his gun out. Sam frowned when he noticed that it was Angela.

"Nice reflexes," Angela commented as she shut off the music.

"What's wrong with you?" Sam asked, still half asleep. "I could have shot you. Why aren't you sleeping? We got in like two hours ago."

"Not tired." She shrugged. "And we got work to do, so wake Dean up."

~/~\~

Later in the main room of the bunker, Sam and Dean walked in, each holding a cup of coffee. Angela was busy packing her duffle bag.

"What the hell, kid?" Dean grumbled sleepily.

"I called Cas. He said there's something going down in Missouri." Angela explained.

"What kind of something?" Sam questioned.

"He said he couldn't talk about it over the phone." Angela shrugged.

"Why?" Dean's brows furrowed.

"Because he is a weird guy, okay? He's a weird, dorky, little guy. But he happens to have an army of angels behind him, and, even though I hate to say it, if we're gonna take a shot at Metatron, they might be useful." Angela explained.

Angela went to put the First Blade into her duffel, but Sam noticed, and his brows furrowed in concern.

"Well, do you think we need the First Blade? Why don't we just leave that here?" Sam asked.

Angela glanced up at him. "We talked about this, and we decided that—

"No." Sam interrupted. "In all fairness, we didn't decide. You did."

"Okay," Angela rolled her eyes. "I decided that a hockey stick that can kill anything might come in handy, so sue me."

"How many times have we been around this block?" Sam sighed heavily. "Magic that powerful comes at a price, and right now we don't know what that price is."

"I'm fine. I'm fan-friggin'-tastic." Angela assured with a forced smile.

"And we're glad, honestly," Sam replied. "I'm not saying we bury the thing. I'm saying we just save it for when we really need it. Crowley. Metatron. The big boss fights. You don't have to have it with you all the time, right? I mean, just leave it. Please."

Angela pursed her lips as she set the blade to the side. "No problem. I'm gonna get Grace ready."

"Thank you." Sam sighed in relief.

~/~\~

_Dixon, Missouri_

Sam, Dean, and Angela approached the deputy outside of Colonel Scoop's. Grace walked with them, holding Sam's hand.

"Agents Spears, Aguilera, and Keys? FBI?" the deputy raised her brows.

"Uh-huh." Dean nodded.

"Your partner said you'd be along." She replied.

"Thank you," Angela replied with a nod.

~/~\~

They walked into the building and over to Castiel, who was talking with the sheriff.

"Thank you for coming." Castiel greeted the hunters.

"Spears, Aguilera, and Keys?" Sam quirked a brow.

"I've noticed your aliases are usually the names of popular musicians," Castiel replied.

"Wow," Dean muttered.

"Come here. Take a look at this." Castiel replied.

"Come on, Peanut," Sam told Grace.

They all approached a body on a gurney, the woman's eyes burned out of her head. Sam knelt down and handed Grace one of her stuffed animals to keep her distracted.

"Look," Castiel started. "And the other bodies are the same—burnt-out husks."

"Okay, so, what is this, some sort of mass smiting?" Angela frowned.

"I don't know what this was." Castiel shook his head. "Never seen anything like it. Six humans died here… And one angel."

"One of yours?" Sam raised his brows.

Castiel nodded in confirmation. "Was a good soldier. This attack… I knew he wanted a war, but this… This is abhorrent, even for him."

~/~\~

Castiel, Sam, Dean, and Angela entered Castiel's command center. Grace was fast asleep in Sam's arms. The command center was bustling with angels and Hannah rose to greet them.

"Commander." Hannah smiled.

"Oh, it's just creepy," Dean muttered.

"Sam, Dean, Angela, this is Hannah." Castiel introduced.

"The Winchesters—I've heard so much about you," Hannah replied.

"What can I say? Cas is a fan." Angela shrugged.

Suddenly, an angel in a red shirt took a box of evidence that Castiel was holding. "I'll start to examine this evidence."

"Y—oh, um…" Sam trailed off.

"Sir, this morning, Josiah wasn't at roll call," Hannah told Castiel.

"Uh, roll call? You hold, uh, roll call?" Sam's brows shot up.

"They like to hear me say their names," Castiel replied.

"I know a couple of women like that." Dean quipped.

"No one's seen Josiah since Ezra was murdered," Hannah added. "We think that—

"You think Josiah's the killer, that he is the mole?" Angela questioned.

"Well, who else?" Hannah shrugged. "We searched the grounds, but he's vanished.

"Not without wings," Dean replied. "He's an angel, but he's still got to travel like he's human, which means walk, drive—means he's gonna leave a trail."

Sam handed Grace to Angela and sat down at one of the computers.

"Alright," he sighed. "What was his vessel's name?"

"Sean Flynn from Omaha," Castiel answered.

"This guy?" Sam turned the computer monitor.

"Yeah, that's him." Castiel nodded.

"Alright. Looks like someone just used his credit card at a Gas-n-Sip in Colorado." Sam commented.

"And that's how we do things in the pros." Dean smiled smugly.

"Commander," the angel in the red shirt walked up. "I have something. The phone's memory chip has a video time-stamped just before the explosion."

 _"And now the moment you've all been waiting for."_ The customer's voice rang through the speakers.

_"What?"_

_"No!"_ a little girl yelled.

The man ripped open his coat to reveal a sigil carved into his chest. He rammed an angel blade through his heart. _"I do this for Castiel!"_

~/~\~

"What the hell was that?" Angela demanded.

"I don't know." Castiel shook his head. "I didn't—I would _never_ ask an angel to sacrifice himself to kill innocents. I'm gonna be sick."

"Cas, why would an angel blow up a Colonel Scoop's in your name?" Sam questioned.

"That's not what he was doing. Roll it back. There." Hannah pointed at the girl in the booth. "That was an angel—Esther. She's one of Metatron's."

"So, this was some kind of hit?" Dean raised his brows.

"I don't know." Castiel frowned.

"Stop saying you don't know." Angela snapped.

"You can't think I would allow something like this." Castiel retorted.

"Cas, I know you try to be a good guy, okay?" Angela sighed. "I do. You try. But what you got here, this is a damn cult."

"Angela." Castiel frowned deeply.

"And the last time you had this kind of juice, you did kill humans and angels," she reminded. "And you did nothing but lie to me, Sam, and Dean about it the whole damn time!"

"Can we, uh—can we take this somewhere else?" Sam cut in quickly.

~/~\~

The four of them entered Castiel's private office.

"Will you stow the baggage, Angie," Sam muttered. "Look, we've got a case. Let's work it. Cas, did you know the angel in that video?"

"Yes," Castiel confirmed. "His name was Oren. He was a new recruit. He worked in community outreach."

"And what does that mean?" Dean questioned.

"Some of my troops are stationed at a local hospital," Castiel explained. "They help where they can. Minor miracles—it's nothing that would get attention."

"So, what was he doing in that video, with the stabbing?" Sam asked.

"The Enochian runes that were carved in his chest—I… I think that they were meant to focus energy." Castiel replied. "When he stabbed himself, it unleashed all that power."

"So, what about the girl? What happened to her?" Sam raised his brows.

"If she was the target, if the blast was focused on her, then more likely than not, she—she was atomized." Castiel sighed heavily. "So, what do we do now?"

"Well, you don't do jack," Angela replied firmly. "Me, Sam, and Dean will head to the hospital, see if we can find somebody who knew this… walking nuke."

"Hold on. These are my people. I can help." Castiel replied firmly.

"Well, that's sort of the problem." Angela huffed. "I mean, the Manson girls aren't gonna give us a straight answer with Charlie in the room, so just hang back."

"So, I should just sit here?" Castiel raised his brows.

"Pretty much." Angela nodded.

"No." Castiel pursed his lips. "If you don't want my help, then I will follow Josiah's trail to Colorado. I have to do something, Angela."

"Alright, fine." Angela conceded. "But Sam and Dean are going with you."

"What?" Dean frowned.

"Because you don't trust me?" Castiel narrowed his eyes.

"To help." Angela shrugged.

~/~\~

Sam, Dean, and Castiel drove down the dark road in Castiel's car. Grace sat in her car seat in the back with Sam.

"Abaddon is dead." Castiel raised a brow.

"And then some," Sam replied.

"Oh, no." Castiel sighed heavily.

"Okay." Dean scoffed. "Um… Ominous."

"Does Angela seem different to you two?" Castiel asked.

"Yeah," Sam whispered. "Lately, she seems to be… amped up—you know, on edge."

"Effects of the mark?" Castiel questioned.

"What else?" Dean's brows furrowed.

"She does seem angry," Castiel noted. "I mean, she's always a little angry, but now it seems like… more. I think a part of her actually believed that I ordered those angels to, you know… You don't, do you?"

"No, man," Dean assured. "Cas, listen. You got a weird thing going on back there. Those other angels, the way they stare at you, i-it's like you're part rock star, part L. Ron."

"They've put their faith in me," Castiel replied.

"And maybe that's the problem." Sam shrugged. "I mean, people have been doing messed up crap in the name of faith—in the name of God—since forever."

"Well… I'm not trying to… play God." Castiel muttered. "I'm just trying to get my people home."

~/~\~

_Wellington, Colorado_

Sam, Dean, and Castiel were at the Gas-n-Sip in Colorado talking to the store clerk. Dean held Grace, who was playing with his jacket lapel.

"Yeah, I saw him, officer." The clerk nodded. "He filled up some old, uh, woody station wagon."

"Don't suppose you, uh, got the license plate number?" Dean questioned.

"No." the clerk shook his head. "But he was headed to an address in Pray, Montana."

"How do you know that?" Castiel frowned.

"Guy asked for directions." The clerk shrugged.

"Oh." Sam nodded.

"Uh, you want me to write that down?" the clerk asked.

"Yes. Now. Please." Sam nodded.

~/~\~

Angela was questioning a female angel in a doctor's coat. They were sitting across the table from each other in a room that resembled a boiler room.

"What do I call you?" Angela asked.

"My angelic name is 18 syllables long. Let's stick with Flagstaff." She replied.

"Copy." Angela nodded. "So, you knew this Oren guy?"

"We worked together at the hospital," Flagstaff confirmed. "He was a joy—bright, full of life."

"Yeah, I hear he had a real explosive personality." Angela quipped.

"Do you think this is a joke?" Flagstaff glared.

"Do you see me laughing?" Angela asked, stone-faced. "Is there anything else you can tell me about him? For example, why he'd light his own fuse."

"No," Flagstaff replied. "Can I go? I have lives to save."

"Welcome to the club." Angela retorted, earning a smirk from Flagstaff. "Something funny?"

"Not funny 'haha.' But you think you help people—it's amusing," Flagstaff replied condescendingly. "I help people. A clogged artery here, a tumor there. I do good in this world. You—you believe every problem can be solved with a gun. You play the hero, but underneath the hype, you're a killer with oceans of blood on her hands. I hate people like you."

Angela stared at her calmly and then leaped to her feet and threw the table between them aside in one swift movement. She threw Flagstaff and her chair backward, but caught them before they hit the ground and instantly had an angel blade to her throat.

"Honey, there ain't no one else like me." Angela snarled.

"Don't… please," Flagstaff begged, scared out of her mind.

"Oren. Friends?" Angela growled.

"Constantine… And Tessa." Flagstaff gasped.

Angela frowned at that name. "Tessa? The reaper, Tessa?"

"You know her?" Flagstaff frowned.

~/~\~

_Pray, Montana_

Sam, Dean, and Castiel pulled up outside a warehouse. Sam held Grace in his arms.

"That looks like the car the guy at the gas station was talking about, right?" Sam asked. "Maybe Josiah's still around."

"This place is… radiating power," Castiel muttered. "I haven't felt anything like this since… since Heaven. We have to get in there."

Sam handed Grace to Dean and attempted to pick the lock. However, the door refused to budge no matter how much Sam banged his shoulder against it.

"Step aside. I got this." Castiel muttered.

Castiel threw his body into it and jangled the door handle a few times. However, nothing happened. Castiel turned to the Winchesters, frowning deeply.

"I don't got this."

~/~\~

Outside of an auditorium, people walked up the stairs. Tessa walked up to the stairs, but was stopped by Angela's voice as she stepped from behind a post.

"Hey, Tessa." She greeted. "You're supposed to be working at the hospital tonight, but when I stopped by, you were gone. So was an ambulance. Pro tip—they all have GPS."

"Good to know." Tessa nodded. "So, you're here. Why? You just love musical theater?"

"Only if it's _'Fiddler.'_ We need to talk," Angela replied.

"Can't. Sorta got a date." Tessa shrugged.

As she turned to leave, Angela grabbed her jacket to pull her back but accidentally revealed a part of a sigil carved into her chest. Angela clenched her jaw.

"Not happening."

Tessa tried to jerk away, but Angela handcuffed her and shoved her to a wall.

"Where's the other one? Where's Constantine?" Angela demanded.


	42. Stairway to Heaven Part 2

Sam, Dean, and Castiel were still trying to get into the warehouse.

"I checked all the windows and doors." Sam sighed. "No luck. What about you? You guys find anything?"

"I think so," Castiel replied. He lit up his hand blue and revealed an Enochian spell etched above the doorway. "It's Enochian. I believe it's some sort of riddle. 'Why is six afraid of seven?' Now, I assume it's because seven is a prime number, and prime numbers can be intimidating."

"It's because seven eight nine." Dean scoffed.

Suddenly, the door opened with a loud creak.

"It's wordplay." Castiel realized. "And the answer is the key, like the doors of Durin in _'Lord of the Rings.'"_

Sam and Dean frowned at each other.

"Wait a second," Sam started. "You know about _'The Lord of the Rings?'"_

"I'm very pop-culture savvy now," Castiel responded.

"Right," Dean mumbled.

Suddenly, Sam's phone started blaring. "Hey." He answered.

 _"How is he?"_ Angela asked.

"He's, uh… He's Cas." Sam replied. "What about you? How's it going?"

 _"Great. Went out, got some air. Met an old friend. Say hi to Sam, Tessa."_ Angela replied.

 _"Your wife's a psycho, Sam!"_ Tessa's voice could be heard.

 _"Ha, ha. Stop."_ Angela laughed dryly.

"What's going on?" Sam frowned deeply.

 _"You first."_ Angela retorted.

~/~\~

Angela and Tessa walked into the command center.

"Tessa? What are you doing?" Hannah questioned.

"You want to tell her?" Angela quirked a brow.

Tessa remained silent so Angela pulled back the top of her shirt to reveal the sigil, which Angela had obviously cut a gash across to mark it out.

"Oh, God." Hannah gasped.

"There's no God. There's only Castiel." Tessa replied.

"Oh, and you're done." Angela scoffed.

Angela walked Tessa down a hallway and shoved her into a warded room. Hannah and the other angels followed behind.

"You wounded her," Hannah commented.

"More like 'defused,' okay?" Angela corrected. "I cut up that old testament graffiti she carved into herself. I figured that would break the spell."

"And now… what will you do to her?" another angel asked.

Angela pulled out an angel blade. "Guess."

"Torture. Predictable." Flagstaff shook her head.

"We need to know if there are other bombers out there," Angela replied.

"No." Hannah cut in. "I won't allow it. I know what Tessa was planning. It's horrible, but there's only one person who can punish her."

"Let me guess," Angela pursed her lips. "Yea big, trench coat, sensible shoes?"

"You have to understand that Castiel is the _only_ thing holding us together," Hannah explained. "A month ago, half the angels in this place were trying to kill the other half. Castiel has given us a purpose. But more than that, he has given us a way to live in peace. We have rules. Order." She stressed. "If I let you take matters into your own hands, what's to stop one of them from doing the same? You can talk to her. You _should_ talk to her. But leave the blade outside."

"Are you asking or telling?" Angela tilted her head.

"We're not asking." One of the angels glared.

Angela stared evenly at all the angels before her without blinking an eye. She smoothly flipped the blade handle first and handed it to Hannah. Angela then calmly walked into the room with Tessa.

~/~\~

Sam, Dean, and Castiel were searching the warehouse. Sam held Grace protectively.

"You sure you don't want to go back, Cas?" Sam asked. "Look, if Angie's right about Tessa…"

"No, I, uh… I do. I just… give me a second." Castiel murmured.

Dean noticed some writing on the wall, shining his flashlight up to it. "Only the penitent man shall pass? Cas, wait!"

Cas fell to his knees just in time to avoid two huge spinning saw blades which sprung out from the wall about neck height.

"The Last Crusade," Sam muttered.

~/~\~

Angela sat across from Tessa at the table while Hannah stood to the side.

"Okay," Angela started. "Well, let's start with an easy one. Who are you working for?"

"Castiel," Tessa answered.

"Liar." Hannah spat.

"People like you, they never understand," Tessa told Hannah. "Sacrifices have to be made."

"So, you go after one of the bad guys, and if a few humans get microwaved, no big deal, right?" Angela quirked a brow.

"In the grand scheme, they don't matter." Tessa shrugged.

"Oh, Tessa," Angela shook her head. "You are so wrong."

"When Castiel came to me and told me what I had to do, he said I was chosen because I was strong. Others… they couldn't handle this. They're too weak." Tessa looked up at Hannah.

Hannah leaped at Tessa but Angela put her arm up to stop her. Angela grabbed Hannah's shoulders and shoved her out the door and into the hallway. She stepped out too and closed the door behind her.

"Settle down!" Angela yelled.

"Is—do you think she's telling the truth?" Hannah asked quietly.

"She thinks she is," Angela replied.

~/~\~

Sam, Dean, and Castiel rounded a corner, only to find a glowing door in front of them.

"Sam. Dean. We found it." Castiel breathed out.

"What?" Sam and Dean asked simultaneously.

"It's the door to Heaven," Castiel replied.

"Seriously?" Sam quirked a brow.

"What else would Metatron go to such great lengths to protect?" Castiel asked. "I can hear it. It's calling to me. If we control this door, we can take the fight to Metatron. We may not even need to fight at all."

"Cas, wait." Dean tried to stop him.

Castiel opened the door and it was revealed to be a room with atrocious party decorations. Sam and Dean walked over to a nearby table.

"Welcome to your own personal Heaven, Castiel. Good luck finding the real one." Sam read from a card.

"But… Why?" Castiel murmured.

Sam and Dean turned around to talk to Castiel, but they startled when they noticed a badly burned man leaning against the wall. Sam immediately covered Grace's eyes.

Castiel leaned down next to the man. "It's Josiah. He reeks of holy oil."

Dean noticed an empty bucket of holy oil hung over the door. "Yeah. Looks like he got 'Home Alone'-ed."

"So, all of this—it was a lie." Castiel frowned deeply.

Josiah jerked to consciousness and grabbed Castiel's wrist. "Supposed to be here… Gate… He told me… After Ezra, he told me that I should come to him. Metatron told me that I could go home. I just wanted to go home."

Castiel went to heal Josiah. "Here. Let me—

"No!" Josiah stopped him. "I would rather die than owe my life to you, Castiel. You play at being noble. You play at being one of us. But I look into your eyes… And I don't see an angel staring back at me."

~/~\~

Angela walked back into the room with Tessa.

"Where's your friend?" Tessa asked.

"Just you and me now," Angela replied. "Here's the deal. I like you, Tess, okay? For an angel. But tell me, why are you doing this?"

"Castiel." She answered.

"No, forget Cas," Angela replied. "Why are you doing this? What would make a person want to pop their top, huh? I mean, look, I've been in bad shape. I have. But I have never been that damn low."

"I guess I just can't take the screaming," Tessa whispered.

"Who's screaming?" Angela asked.

"All of them. The lost souls." Tessa replied. "The ones that can't get into Heaven now that it's been boarded up. I hear them. They are so confused. They're in so much pain. All I want to do is help them. It's what I do. It's my job." She explained. "But I can't. So, I suffered… Until death, nothingness. Suddenly, it didn't seem so bad. It seemed quiet."

"So, why don't you just jam an angel blade in your throat and call it a day?" Angela tilted her head.

"I thought about it," Tessa admitted. "But I was too weak. Till Castiel gave me a reason to die."

"Yeah." Angela pursed her lips. "See, that just doesn't sound like the Cas I know."

"But doesn't it, though?" Tessa retorted. "And the Cas you know, would he raise an army of angels without telling you? 'Cause this Cas did. I'll tell you a secret. There's more out there… Like me. So many more."

"You got names?" Angela interrogated.

"That would ruin all the fun," Tessa smirked.

"No." Angela shook her head. "No, see… the fun's just getting started."

Angela pulled the First Blade from his jacket and Tessa took a few steps back.

"Angela, what have you done?" Tessa frowned deeply.

"What I had to." Angela murmured. "Welcome to the club."

Tessa sprinted at Angela and impaled herself on the blade in Angela's hand.

"Thank you." She breathed before dying in a bright light.

Hannah and a few other angels burst into the room as Angela started to feel the high from the kill.

~/~\~

Angela was handcuffed to a chair in the warded room. She had duct tape over her mouth and her nose was bleeding. Hannah opened the door as Castiel, Dean, and Sam burst in. Sam immediately handed Grace to Dean.

"She put up a fight," Hannah commented.

"Get out," Castiel commanded.

Sam moved quickly to Angela and ripped off the duct tape.

"Ah!" Angela yelled in pain. "You should have seen the other 10 guys, babe."

"They said you killed Tessa?" Castiel questioned.

"Not so much. She knifed herself." Angela replied.

"Yeah?" Sam asked as he removed the handcuffs. "Why would she do that, Angela?"

"I don't know, Sam. She was saying all kinds of crap." Angela shrugged.

"So, that's why you brought out the First Blade?" Sam raised his brows.

"They told you about that, huh?" Angela mumbled.

"We had a deal," Sam replied firmly.

"Yeah, well, it was a stupid deal." Angela glared.

"Really?" Dean asked. "'Cause if you'd stuck to it, Tessa would still be alive. Without her, we ain't got jack."

"Yeah, you think I don't know that? You think I _wanted_ that to happen?" Angela snapped.

"I don't know, Angie. Did you?" Sam asked.

"Alright, that's enough. Stop it." Castiel cut in.

"Commander," Hannah opened the door. "I'm sorry, but you have a call… From Metatron."

~/~\~

Castiel and the three hunters walked into the main room as Metatron waited patiently on a video call.

 _"Castiel."_ He greeted. _"Bet you're not happy to see me."_

"Is anyone, ever?" Dean questioned.

 _"Dean, always with the B-grade '80s-action-movie wit."_ Metatron smiled smugly.

"What do you want, Metatron?" Sam huffed.

 _"Just to tell ass-tiel, there, that I'm still alive. His bomber failed."_ Metatron replied.

"My bomber?" Castiel's brows furrowed.

 _"The crazy guys. Big knife. Kablooey."_ Metatron recapped. _"I'm fine, thanks for asking, but Gadreel is wounded, and Tyrus—R.I.P. His followers are not your biggest fans, by the way. They've all come over to my team."_

"I didn't send anyone to kill you." Castiel glared.

 _"Oh, stop lying, Castiel."_ Metatron chastised.

"Who are you to lecture me on lying?" Castiel demanded. "Your deception led to the fall."

 _"I did what I had to do,"_ Metatron argued. _"I have always done what I have to do, for God and for the angels."_

"Sure. Yeah, you're mother Teresa with neckbeard." Angela sassed.

 _"What I did was neither good nor bad. It was necessary—a small hardship to make us all stronger, to make us a family again."_ Metatron explained.

"Yeah, except for the angels you had Gadreel kill." Sam retorted.

 _"Okay, yes."_ Metatron rolled his eyes. _"Maybe I got a little carried away at first, but those days are over. A near-death experience makes you re-evaluate. So, one time only, I'm offering amnesty. Every angel, no matter what their sin, may join me and return to Heaven. I will be their God, and they can be my heavenly host."_

"Why would we follow you?" Hannah demanded.

 _"Well, look around. You've seen Earth. You've had a taste of free will."_ Metatron replied. _"I got to ask you—do you like it? I mean, the way you've flocked off to follow Castiel tells me you need to follow someone. It's in your DNA. But Cas—he's not what you think he is."_ He explained. _"He sends angels out to die. Have you told them about your stolen grace, Castiel? How it's fading away, and when it burns out so will you?"_ he raised a brow. _"So… No, then. I'm not the best, but I'm the best you've got. You want to stay with Castiel, fine, but he's playing you, because at the end of the day, the only thing he cares about is himself, Nancy Drew, and the Hardy boys over there. You've got a choice to make. Make the right one."_

Metatron clicked off and a hush fell over the room.

"He's lying." Castiel turned to the angels.

"About the grace?" Hannah asked.

Castiel hesitated for a moment. "It's complicated."

"So, he wasn't lying," Hannah replied.

"He was about everything else," Castiel assured. "He… you believe me, don't you?"

"I want to believe you, but I… we need proof." Hannah murmured.

"Name it," Castiel replied quickly.

"Punish her." Hannah pointed to Angela.

"What?" Angela frowned deeply.

"She _murdered_ Tessa. She broke our rules." Hannah reminded.

"Y'all can all go to hell." Angela turned to leave, but was stopped by the angels.

"Angela." Castiel murmured.

Sam and Dean went to Angela's aid, but were also subdued by the angels.

"Hey, wait a sec—

"You gave us order, Castiel, and we gave you our trust. Don't lose it over one human." Hannah handed a blade to Castiel. "This is justice."

Castiel took the blade and held it as he considered. Angela stared at him in shock.

"No." Castiel decided. "I can't."

"Goodbye, Castiel," Hannah replied sadly.

All of the angels quietly filed out of the room leaving the three hunters and Castiel standing there alone.

~/~\~

Castiel, Sam, Dean, and Angela walked into the bunker. Dean held Grace in his arms.

"I'm gonna put the munchkin to bed, let you guys talk…" Dean muttered before leaving the room.

"So, Angie, uh… are we gonna talk about this, or what?" Sam raised his brows.

"About what?" Angela retorted. "Yeah, I lied, but you were being an infant."

"Wow." Sam scoffed. "That apology—

"Oh, I'm not apologizing." Angela interrupted. "I'm _telling_ you how it's gonna be."

"Angie, that blade—

"That blade's the only thing that can kill Metatron, and I am the only one who can use it… so, from here on out, I'm calling the shots." Angela glared darkly. "Capisce? Look, until I jam that blade through that douchebag's heart, we are _not_ a team. This is a dictatorship." She snarled. "Now, you don't have to like it, but that's how it's gonna be."

Sam's angry look propelled him away while Angela went up the stairs and sat down across from Castiel.

"So, batteries…" she trailed off.

"I'm fine," Castiel replied.

"No, you're not." Angela sighed. "How long you got?"

"Long enough to destroy Metatron, I hope." Castiel murmured. "But without an army…"

"Well, hey, you still got us." Angela smiled a small smile.

"Angela," Castiel looked at her. "Those bombers—you don't really think that I—

"Cas, you just gave up an entire army for one person." Angela reminded. "No, there's no way that you blew those people away."

"You really believe we four will be enough?" Castiel asked.

"We always have been." Angela shrugged.

Sam and Dean walked into the room at the same time as Gadreel did. Sam shouted a warning and Dean and Angela leaped to the defense.

"Guys!" Sam yelled.

"I'm not here to fight." Gadreel held his hands up. "I thought about what you said. You're right. Metatron, he's… something needs to be done."

"And we should trust you why?" Dean glared.

"Because I can give him to you." Gadreel replied. "I know where Metatron is. I know everything. I know the bombers. They were his agents, not yours. You don't trust me, fine. I understand. I've… made mistakes. But haven't you? Haven't we all? At least give me a chance."

Dean, Sam, and Angela exchanged a look. Angela stepped forward and extended her left hand to shake Gadreel's. However, as soon as the angel grasped it, Angela yanked the First Blade out of her jacket and slashed Gadreel deeply across the chest. Sam, Dean, and Castiel all leaped at Angela and held her back as she snarled under the full power of the blade. Gadreel fell heavily to the ground.


	43. Do You Believe in Miracles Part 1

_Lebanon, Kansas_

Sam, Castiel, and Dean were holding a feral Angela back from Gadreel, who was slumped on the floor. Angela managed to wrangle out of their grasp and stood to face Sam, who was blocking her way to Gadreel.

"Drop the blade, Angie," Sam begged her.

"Move," Angela growled.

"Angie. Look at me." Sam pleaded.

"Sam! Move!" she practically roared. "Aah!" she yelled as Castiel and Dean jumped her from both sides.

Sam leaped in to grab Angela's right arm and the blade. "Let it go! Let it go!" he tried to wrestle it from his wife's grasp. "Let it go."

~/~\~

Sam, Dean, and Castiel shoved Angela into the bunker's dungeon and stood between her and the door.

"The hell if you think I'm riding the pine on this one, guys." Angela glared at them.

"Something is wrong with you, Angie," Sam replied gently. "And until we figure out what, this is where you have to stay."

"And you three are gonna do what? Take on Metatron yourselves?" Angela raised her brows. "That's smart. Oh, no, wait. No, you," she motioned to Castiel. "You lost your angel army. And you two," she motioned to Sam and Dean. "Now you're trying to lock up the one person who has a shot at killing the son of a bitch! Hell of a plan, fellas!"

"Sorry, kiddo," Dean whispered sadly.

Sam, Dean, and Castiel turned and pushed the doors shut, locking Angela in the dungeon.

"Look, hey, guys," Angela called after them. "Sam. Sammy! Baby, please!"

~/~\~

Back in the main room of the bunker, Sam, Dean, and Castiel put the first blade into a box on the table.

"Sam. Dean," Castiel spoke up.

"Yeah?" Dean asked.

"Angela… wasn't wrong," Castiel admitted. "My followers have abandoned us."

"Yeah, and Gadreel says he can help us," Sam replied. "From where I sit, that's more than an even trade."

They looked over to where Gadreel should've been on the floor, but there was a lot of blood and no Gadreel.

~/~\~

Angela violently threw up on the floor and coughed horribly. She finally recovered just a little and walked over to a small mirror in the cabinet. Her mouth was covered in blood.

~/~\~

Sam, Dean, and Castiel managed to track Gadreel to a field outside of the bunker. Sam carried Grace in his arms. Gadreel was lying on the grass with his slashed chest bleeding profusely. The brothers and Castiel rushed to him.

"Please." Gadreel looked up at them weakly. "I'll leave you alone, I swear."

Castiel reached out to heal him. "We're not here to hurt you."

"No." Gadreel shook his head. "Your grace. Healing me will only weaken you."

Castiel ignored Gadreel and instantly healed the angel.

"Did you hear him?" Gadreel asked quietly.

"Metatron. Yes." Castiel nodded. "Where is he going? What does he want?"

"I'm afraid… humanity." Gadreel answered.

~/~\~

Angela was kneeling down in the dungeon with a summoning spell in front her of. She lit the ingredients and instantly Crowley appeared inside the devil's trap.

"What's that smell?" Crowley wrinkled his nose.

Angela stood up, looking rather scared. "What the hell's happening to me, you son of a bitch?"

"Liquor before beer, bad taco? How should I know?" Crowley shrugged.

"I can't turn it off!" Angela cried. "Ever since I killed Abaddon, it's—it's like this whole… other thing. I get this high and I-I-I _need_ to kill. I mean, I really, really need to kill. And if I don't—

"You yak your guts out." Crowley finished. "It's the mark."

"Meaning?" Angela questioned.

"It wants you to kill. The more you kill, the better you feel. The less you kill, the less better you feel." Crowley explained.

"How much less better?" Angela demanded.

"One would imagine the least-best better," Crowley replied.

"So dead?" Angela swallowed nervously. "Well, Cain had the mark. He didn't die."

"Cain was a demon. Your body's not strong enough to contain the blade's power." Crowley explained.

"What if I got rid of it?" Angela asked, her eyes betraying her fear.

"You want to get rid of it?" Crowley raised his brows.

"What I want is Metatron," Angela growled.

"Go on." Crowley shrugged.

"But I have to get through that door, and I have to get to the blade." Angela huffed. "And you're gonna help me."

~/~\~

Sam, Dean, Castiel, and Gadreel entered the bunker. The box that had contained the blade was open on the table.

"Oh, no." Sam rushed to the box, only to find it empty.

"What's that smell?" Gadreel asked with a frown.

"Sulfur." Dean sighed heavily.

~/~\~

Sam was on the phone, talking to Angela's voicemail.

"Angie, pick up the phone. Call me back." He pleaded. "I'm not kidding, alright? Don't do this. Not like this."

"Are you sure it was Crowley?" Castiel questioned.

"Who else would she summon?" Dean asked, adjusting Grace in his arms. "I mean, she and Crowley have been galivanting together over the blade ever since Angie got the mark."

Gadreel's brows furrowed in confusion. "The mark?"

"The mark of Cain." Castiel clarified.

"So, that's what Angela cut me with—the First Blade. In a way, that could be useful." Gadreel replied.

"What?" Sam frowned.

"Well, Metatron is more powerful than ever, but if Angela has the First Blade and the mark, that might give us our best chance." Gadreel explained.

"You're joking, right?" Sam scoffed audibly. "An hour ago, we were ready to throw Angie into a padded cell, and now you want to say she's our best chance?"

"Hear him out, Sam." Castiel mediated.

"Oh, right. Excuse me. Sorry, guys." Sam retorted sarcastically. "Uh, sorry I'm a little less than eager to hear that our best chance is—is arming the warhead and hoping it hits the mark. This is not a bomb we're talking about. This is my wife, the mother of my child."

"And your wife would not be in this alone," Gadreel assured. "We can help."

"How?" Dean demanded.

"I believe Metatron has found a way to tap into the angel tablet, harnessing its power to give him powers equivalent to—

"God, right?" Sam finished. "I mean, that's what this is all about, isn't it? Metatron wants to be God."

Gadreel just nodded silently.

"Great, well, that basically makes him unstoppable," Dean muttered.

"Not if we can break the connection between Metatron and the tablet," Castiel replied. "That would make him just an ordinary angel. Where's the tablet?"

"Metatron's office." Gadreel answered.

"In Heaven?" Sam asked.

"I can get us to the door." Gadreel nodded.

"And then what?" Sam demanded. "I mean, why would they let you in? If Metatron's number two shows up with Heaven's most want," he motioned to Castiel. "The gig is up."

"We have to try," Castiel stressed.

~/~\~

Angela and Crowley pulled up to the café and walked inside. Angela spread out on a table with the First Blade wrapped in its cloth and her computer. Crowley sat down across from her as the waitress approached.

"What can I get you two?" the waitress smiled brightly.

"Coffee. Black." Angela replied flatly.

"Are you serious?" Crowley quirked a brow. "You take this girl's table, her time, you spread out like an overgrown teenager, and for what? What's the tip on a single cup of Joe? A nickel?"

Angela glared at Crowley. "Fine. Caesar salad, extra dressing."

"You got it." The waitress nodded before walking off.

"So, this is what you, moose, and squirrel do, eh?" Crowley asked. "Crisscross the country, searching for evil, eating at hole-in-the-wall places."

"Yep." Angela didn't even look up from her laptop.

"You never get tired of the rat race?" Crowley asked curiously. "Never get the urge to just… bugger off and howl at the moon? Never ask yourself, 'is this is? Is this all there is?'" he added, earning a look from Angela. "I kicked human blood, you know."

"Oh, so you're full-metal douche again," Angela muttered. "Well, that's fantastic. Would you like a stuffed bear?"

"Just trying to make conversation." Crowley shrugged.

"How's Hell, Crowley?" Angela questioned.

"Hell's fine. Hell's like a Swiss watch." Crowley retorted. "Don't worry about Hell. Hell's complicated."

"Game of Thrones is complicated. Shower sex with Sam—that's complicated." Angela muttered. "Hell ain't complicated. Your problem ain't Hell. It's you."

"Fair enough." Crowley sighed. "What's your problem, then?"

"My problem is Metatron. Right now there's nothing." Angela replied. "There's no angel smitings, no crazy acts of God, no vermin, hail. If Metatron's making his move on Earth, he is taking his sweet-ass time."

Crowley noticed a couple of his demons walk through the door. "Never fear. Calvary's here."

The two demons walked up to Crowley and one handed him a smartphone with a video on it. Crowley nodded and motioned for them to leave.

"And?" Angela raised her brows.

"Apparently… your angel has gone viral," Crowley replied.

Crowley handed the phone to Angela and she pressed play on the video.

 _"And that, American, is perfection."_ The first boy laughed as he filmed a girl walking down the sidewalk.

 _"You, dude, that's your sister."_ Another boy laughed.

Suddenly, a car crashed into a lady walking and the boys quickly ran to the scene with their camera still recording.

_"Oh, my God! She's dead, man! She's dead."_

_"I'm not so sure about that,"_ Metatron replied.

Metatron bent down and healed the lady. As he helped her sit up, he whispered something in her ear.

_"Is he ser—is he freaking serious?!"_

_"Did you see that?! Holy… Tell me you just got that. Dude, what's your name?"_

_"Marv."_ Metatron looked straight into the camera.

"When was this taken?" Angela asked as the video ended.

"A couple of hours ago. Muncie, Indiana." Crowley replied.

"What did he whisper in her ear?" Angela questioned.

"Exactly," Crowley smirked.

Angela gathered her stuff and stood up. Crowley frowned.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. You're not gonna eat your food?" Crowley asked.

"Not hungry." Angela shrugged.

~/~\~

_Muncie, Indiana_

Angela and Crowley pulled up to an RV park. Sam stood next to the RV they stopped by.

"I got this," Angela told Crowley. Angela got out of the car and walked up to her husband. "Where's Dean?"

"Back at the bunker with Gracie," Sam replied, more than slightly annoyed. "I guess one of us doesn't need a demon to help follow a clue trail. You're looking for miracle lady, right? Yeah, she's gone. I had a nice chat with her, though."

"Sam, whatever kind of intervention you think this is, trust me, it ain't," Angela replied. "I'm not gonna explain myself to you."

"Yeah, I sort of got that." Sam nodded. "I just thought you might like to know that while you two have been playing, uh, odd couple, your real friends, like Cas, like the angel you stabbed, Gadreel—they're out there right now risking their asses to help you win this fight."

Angela's brows furrowed. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"A fight, I might add, you made that much more complicated when you decided to stab the one angel who could actually get us to Metatron." Sam continued.

"You mean the angel that took you for a joy ride?" Angela scoffed. "The angel that slaughtered Kevin? That angel?"

"Who you let in the front door in the first place." Sam reminded. "You tricked me, Angie. And now I'm the one who wakes up in the middle of the night seeing my hands killing Kevin, not you. So, please, when you say you don't want to explain yourself to me, don't. I get it." He added firmly. "And I also get that Metatron has to go. And I know you're our best shot at that."

"I'm gonna take my shot, for better or worse," Angela replied firmly.

"I know." Sam nodded sadly.

"No matter the consequences," Angela added.

"I know," Sam repeated. "But if this is it, we're gonna do it together. Through good times and bad times, remember?"

"Yeah, I remember." Angela murmured.

"You want to know what he whispered to her, right, in the video?" Sam asked. "His next stop."

"So, what are we all gollywagging on about?" Crowley piped up. "Chop-cop."

Sam and Angela both turned to face the demon with faces that told him to get lost.

"Excuse me." Crowley scoffed. "I'm not exactly demon minion number three here. As the kids say, I've got mad skills."

"Look, I don't know what you expected here, kay." Angela retorted. "I don't really care, but you wanted off the hamster wheel. Get off."

"Well, I guess I've been Winchestered." Crowley pursed his lips. "I'd wish you two good luck… if I thought it would help."


	44. Do You Believe in Miracles Part 2

Angela was digging around the trunk of her car, which was parked outside the homeless community. Her right hand shook uncontrollably until she set it on the covered blade, and Angela started to react to the energy radiating off the blade. Sam walked up unnoticed but saw his wife getting high from the blade's power. He cleared his throat and Angela whipped her hand off the blade.

"Anything?" Angela raised her brows.

"Uh, yeah." Sam nodded. "He's up there. About a mile up the road. There's a homeless encampment. The way the folks are talking, he's got them convinced he's some kind of new Jesus or something."

Angela nodded silently.

"You good?" Sam asked softly.

"Yeah, I'm good," Angela assured.

Sam reached over and picked up the First Blade. He handed it to his wife in silence.

"Listen, Sammy," Angela let out a shaky sigh. "About, um, you know, the last couple of months…"

"I know." Sam leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to her cheek. "So, before we find something else to fight about… tell me… Are you ready to gut this bitch?"

Sam turned to pick up his bag but as he turned back around to face his wife, Angela threw a punch and knocked him out cold. Angela kneeled down to her unconscious husband and kissed his forehead.

"Sorry, baby." She murmured. "It's not your fight."

~/~\~

Angela strolled up to the homeless encampment.

"Can I help you?" George eyed her.

"Take it easy, Chief." Angela held up a hand.

"You're Angela Winchester." A woman commented.

"Now," Angela tilted her head. "How did you know that?"

"He said you were coming." The woman returned.

"Well, here I am." Angela shrugged. "Where's Metatron?"

"Marv." George corrected.

"Sure." Angela rolled her eyes.

"In there…" the woman gestured. "Praying for our forgiveness."

"Forgiveness for what?" Angela questioned.

The woman's eyes went to a pool of blood on the ground and Angela's eyes followed.

"Is he now?" Angela muttered.

~/~\~

Angela found Metatron sitting in a meditation pose on the floor at the back of the warehouse.

"You can save the humble-pie Jesus routine for somebody who gives a damn," Angela stated.

"The problem with you, Angela, is the cynicism," Metatron replied. "Always with the cynicism. But most people—even the real belly crawlers living in filth… Or Brentwood… They don't want to be cynical. They just want something to believe in."

"And that'd be you." Angela retorted.

"Why not me?" Metatron countered.

"You've been working those people outside for, what, a day?" Angela tilted her head. "They've already spilled blood in your name. You are nothing but Bernie Madoff with wings."

"So, I'm a fake." Metatron rose to his feet. "Do you have any idea how much pan-cake makeup and soft lighting it took to get God to work a rope line? He hated it. And, you know, humans sense that. So, they prayed harder and longer and fought more wars in his name." he explained passionately. "And for what?! So they could die of malaria? Leukemia? And all the while, blaming themselves! 'Oh, if only I'd been more prayerful, God would have loved me! God would have saved me!' You know what?! God didn't even know their name! But I do. Because I've walked among them. And _I_ can save them."

"Sure, you can," Angela replied sarcastically. "So long as your mug is in every Bible and 'What would Metatron do?' is on every bumper."

"And?" Metatron asked as if there was no problem. "What, are you blaming me for giving them what they want, giving them a brand they can believe in?"

Angela started to unwrap the First Blade in her hand. "I'm blaming you for Kevin! I'm blaming you for taking Cas's grace. Hell, I'm blaming you for the Cubs not winning The World Series in the last 100 freaking years." She glared. "Whatever it is… I'm blaming you."

"The First Blade." Metatron breathed in awe. "Nasty piece of work, isn't she? Okay, let's say you win, Angela, and I die. What's the world left with, then, hmm? A herd of panty-waisted angels and you? Half out of your mind with lord knows what pumping through your veins?"

Angela stepped closer to Metatron, glaring darkly. "Yeah, you see, the only thing you've said that went into my ear was that you die."

"Oh. Fine." Metatron groaned. "We'll fight. I don't know what you expect is gonna come of all this. Unless…" he narrowed his eyes. "That's why your stalling. Because you know nothing's gonna come of this unless your pals succeed upstairs. Well, here's a news flash—humpty and dumpty are starring in their very own version of 'Locked Up Abroad: Heaven' right now."

Angela turned to the side to hide her anger and then threw out her hand to stab Metatron with the blade. However, Metatron blocked the blow and Angela punched him in the face with her left hand, causing him to stumble back.

"Wow," Metatron smirked. "That big blade and that… douchey tribal tat sure gave you some super juice. Whoo! Okay."

Metatron motioned with his hand to bring it on. Angela rushed him but got thrown in the air and hit the wall about 10 feet up and fell to the ground with a crash.

~/~\~

Metatron flung Angela back against the wall and she fell to the floor again. Metatron viciously kicked Angela's right arm and the First Blade flew out of her hand. Then Metatron stepped on Angela's wrist with all his weight.

"So," Metatron started. "You took Abaddon's scalp, then you figured you'd take on little old nebbish me. What could go wrong?"

Angela groaned in pain as Metatron's foot crushed down on her wrist.

"And you're powered by the bone of a jackass, and it is just awesome, right?" Metatron continued. "Here's a tip—next time, try to be power by the word of God."

~/~\~

Sam came flying down the stairs into the homeless encampment. He looked around wildly for his wife. When he didn't see her and the homeless guardians surrounded him, he drew his gun.

"Stay back," Sam commanded. "Stay back! Where's Metatron?!"

~/~\~

Metatron continued beating the living daylights out of Angela. He punched her almost unconscious and Angela slumped to the ground. There was blood flooding from her nose, mouth, and ears. Metatron bent down and delivered one more brutal punch to Angela's face.

~/~\~

Angela was barely conscious but she could open her eyes just enough to see the First Blade sitting on a grate a few yards away. Sam rushed in from the opposite side of the warehouse at a breakneck run. Angela, using the little strength she had, willed the blade into her hand. Just as she was about to swing up and stab the blade into Metatron, he buried an angel blade deep into Angela's chest with both hands. Angela gasped horribly as the pain coursed through her.

Sam's eyes widened in fear. "No!"

Angela gasped for air and Metatron pulled the blade out of her chest. Angela's eyes slowly moved to meet Sam's across the warehouse.

~/~\~

Angela's near lifeless body fell over and Sam raced to his wife, completely ignoring Metatron standing right there, the blade dripping with Angela's blood. Sam grabbed Angela's upper arm and pulled her back into a sitting position against the wall.

"Hey," Sam called out to her. "Hey, hey, hey, hey. Hey."

Angela's eyes shot open as the warehouse started to shake violently. Sam then remembered Metatron and went to stab him with the angel blade. However, Metatron managed to disappear just in time and Sam yelled in frustration.

~/~\~

Sam was trying desperately to press a cloth to his wife's gaping chest wound. Angela looked up at Sam, a broken expression on her face.

"Sammy, you got to get out of here before he comes back." She muttered weakly.

"Shh. Shh. Shh. Shh." Sam hushed. "Shut up. Shut up. Just save your energy, alright? Oh, man. We'll stop the bleeding. We'll—we'll get you a doctor or—or I'll find a spell. You're gonna be okay, baby."

Sam took his wife's hand and pressed it to her chest to keep the cloth in place.

"Listen to me." Angela gasped out. "It's better this way."

"What?!" Sam frowned deeply.

"The mark." Angela rasped. "It's making me into something I don't want to be. Gracie shouldn't see me like this."

"Don't worry about the mark," Sam replied frantically. "We'll figure out the mark later. Just hold on, okay, baby? Get you some help."

Sam pulled his wife's arm over his shoulder and grabbed her around the waist and hauled her up. Angela moaned in agony.

~/~\~

Sam struggled to keep Angela upright as he practically carried her toward the exit. Angela was gasping for air and tried to hold the cloth to her chest. Sam's hand covered Angela's over the cloth and the wound.

"What happened with you being okay with this?" Angela mumbled.

"I lied," Sam answered.

"Ain't that a bitch?" Angela panted.

~/~\~

"Sammy, baby. Hold up. Hold up." Angela mumbled weakly.

Sam gently set her down on a piece of equipment. Angela had fresh blood covering her lips and mouth, barely able to breathe.

"I got to say something to you." Angela weakly brought her hand up to Sam's cheek.

"What?" Sam asked, holding Angela upright.

Angela looked up at Sam with tear-filled eyes. "Baby, I'm _proud_ of us. I love you, so much."

Sam's eyes teared up as he looked into Angela's fading eyes. "I love you, too, baby. You gotta stay with me, you hear?"

Angela's hand fell from Sam's face and she closed her eyes before falling into Sam's chest.

"No, no," Sam's voice cracked. "Hey, hey, hey. Hey, wake up, baby. Baby, wake up."

Sam pulled Angela back up, but she was already gone. Sam held her bloody face with both hands and shook her gently.

"Hey. Angie." Sam pleaded. "Angie!"

Tears fell down Sam's face as he broke down completely. He clutched Angela's body to his chest as he sobbed heart-wrenching sobs, his body shaking violently.

"Come back." Sam cried. "Angie, come back, baby."

~/~\~

Sam burst through the bunker door carrying Angela's body.

"Dean!" he yelled loudly. "Dean!"

Dean came running into the room frantically, clutching his gun. "Sammy! What the hell…"

"Where's Gracie?" Sam asked.

"In bed…" Dean's eyes fell to Angela, and his heart broke. "Sam, what the hell happened?"

"Metatron, he… he…" Sam whispered, unable to say it. "Dean, she's gone. I—I don't know what to do."

"We'll fix this, Sammy, we will." Dean gently took Angela from Sam. "It'll all be okay."

~/~\~

Sam and Dean gently put Angela's body on the bed. Her face was clean of all the blood, and her face was extremely pale, empty of life. Sam stared at her, his eyes all puffy and red. Dean put a comforting hand on Sam's shoulder as he stared at his sister-in-law's body.

~/~\~

Sam and Deal walked into the dungeon with all the summoning spell ingredients still sitting on the floor as Angela had left them.

"Dammit, Crowley." Sam clenched his jaw tightly. "You got her into this mess. You _will_ get her out… or so help me, God."

~/~\~

In Angela's room, Crowley stood and gazed at her body.

"Your husband and Dean, bless their souls, are summoning me as I speak," he started. "Make a deal, bring you back. It's exactly what I was talking about, isn't it? It's all become so… expected. You have to believe me. When I suggested you take on the Mark of Cain, I didn't know this was going to happen." He explained. "Not really. I mean, I might not have told you the entire truth. But I never lied. I never lied, Angela. That's important. It's fundamental. But… there is one story about Cain that I might have… forgotten to tell you. Apparently, he, too, was willing to accept death, rather than becoming the killer the mark wanted him to be. So, he took his own life with the blade. He died. Except, as rumor has it, the mark never quite let go. You can understand why I never spoke of this. Why set hearts aflutter at mere speculation? It wasn't until you summoned me… No, it wasn't truly until you left that salad uneaten… that I began to let myself believe. Maybe miracles do come true."

Crowley moved to the bed and placed the First Blade into Angela's right hand and lied them both on Angela's chest.

"Listen to me, Angela Winchester," Crowley stated firmly. "What you're feeling right now—it's not death. It's _life_ —a new kind of life. Open your eyes, Angela. See what I see. Feel what I feel. And let's go take a howl at that moon."

Angela's eyes shot open to reveal onyx black eyes.


End file.
